


The Deplorable Tucker Brothers

by gunshoes



Category: Video Blogging RPF, supermega
Genre: Abusive Households, Anal Sex, Drinking, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gaslighting, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, M/M, Manipulation, Roommates, Smoking, girlboss!Harrison, simp!Jackson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-19 04:01:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 38,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29993559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gunshoes/pseuds/gunshoes
Summary: In light of an artistic rut, Carson Tucker moves to Los Angeles with his older brothers, Harrison and Jackson, and their roommate Matt. Although excited for new jobs and opportunities, Carson failed to realize the kind of household he'd be moving into, and how Matt's past and well-being would become a focal point of his life.(NOTE: the abuse tagged is NOT for Matt/Ryan)
Relationships: Jackson Tucker/Matt Watson (Simp), Ryan Magee/Matt Watson
Comments: 13
Kudos: 15





	1. CHAPTER ONE

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jueyuan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jueyuan/gifts), [despitethewives (choirboyharem)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/choirboyharem/gifts).



> A couple notes about the timeline of this fic: I completely fucked up how/when Carson arrived in LA, so in this fic he moves in May of 2019, he flies in, and he's also a year younger than he actually is, meaning he's 19 in this fic. My bad, but also it's my universe and I get to decide how old Carson is etc, etc.
> 
> Huge shout outs to my two epic betas! You guys rule so hard, thank you so much for helping me out with this fuckin beast. This idea initially stemmed form my gf and I's running joke about Jackson being a simp for Matt, and it turned into something a lot bigger, but I really enjoyed writing this and spent the majority of February fleshing out this universe. 
> 
> And of course, this is all fictional, I don't believe the Tucker brothers are truly deplorable (except Jackson, the creep). 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!

Growing up with two older brothers was both a blessing and a curse. 

Especially growing up as the baby, Carson had been subjected to hand-me-downs, used textbooks for school, and the brunt of Jackson and Harrison’s reign of terror. 

Carson often found himself thrust into the midst of Jackson or Harrison’s schemes. Harrison’s insatiable lust for finding trouble, and Jackson’s overall cocky and weird demeanor made Carson seem like an angel, a saint sent from heaven above in comparison. He held that above the both of them for a long time. Carson got to be the normal one, the good one, the only Tucker brother that didn’t cause a ruckus wherever he went. 

Despite his brothers’ quirks, Carson loved them immensely, and when they both moved away, first to college and then off to sunny Los Angeles, Carson missed them horribly. They texted all the time at first, and Carson lit up whenever he received messages from them, no matter what they were about. 

Carson knew _of_ Matt. He remembered years ago, when Matt had been Jackson’s roommate in college and they were making videos and sketch comedy together, when Jackson called Matt his best friend and vice versa. Something had changed in that dichotomy when Matt moved away, became successful with another person and left Jackson behind. 

Carson listened to Jackson rant about it, air his grievances that Matt had been stolen from him, that he had known Matt longer, that Ryan had no rights to him. 

It was all a little melodramatic. 

Carson didn’t think much about Jackson’s built up resentment towards Matt. They were planning on living together in LA after all, so Jackson obviously must not actually believe any of the rhetoric he spewed in their group chat. 

At least, that’s what Carson thought. 

**JACKSON:** just gave Matt bedbugs lol

Carson stared at the little text notification that lit up his dark bedroom. He was solidly in bed, scrolling through Instagram, about ready to go to sleep, but the message from his brother was alarming, to say the least. 

**CARSON:** wdym?

Carson texted out a quick reply. A statement like that needed some follow up. 

**HARRISON:** he didn’t have bedbugs. Now he does.  
**CARSON:** that’s awful dude wtf??  
**HARRISON:** He’s a big boy he can deal with it  
**JACKSON:** i do have to wash all the clothes i lifted off him though 

Carson watched carefully as a photo came through of someone, Matt, presumably, because it wasn’t either of his brothers. Matt’s arms were covered in small, slightly raised red marks. 

**CARSON:** jesus is he okay???  
**HARRISON:** he fucking kicked us out. Let them eat him alive for all i care. 

Carson blinked. He typed out a reply. Then deleted it. He typed it out again, only to delete it a second time. He sighed, and locked his phone. 

These kinds of texts became somewhat common for Carson, especially once the three of them actually lived together, after Matt finished fumigating his apartment and his brothers were allowed back in. Jackson sent bizarre, candid photos of Matt in their group chat without context. Matt drinking coffee, Matt leaning against the kitchen counter, Matt… poking his head through the shower curtain. 

Carson ignored them, because he didn’t know what else to do. Every time in their childhood when Carson had tried to call Jackson out for his antics, it always ended with Jackson hitting him or kicking him, bullying him in some way shape or form. Harrison always just laughed, goaded Jackson on. It was hard being the little brother. 

Carson was getting ready to move out to LA and live with them soon anyways, and he didn’t want to stir the pot and mess up whatever was going on with their living situation. He just stuck to his painting and his photography, he kept practicing his editing just in case Matt ever asked for help. 

The photos let up for a while, after Carson showed no interest in replying to them. That changed, however, when he received a [photo message](https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/742557833186246707/819816871410401280/DjGPhTSVAAAVpGX.png?width=316&height=421) from Jackson while the four of them were in Japan.

 **JACKSON:** baby boy.  
**CARSON:** haha is he okay? What time is it?  
**JACKSON:** like three am. Ryan went home to read harry potter, fucking loser. Matt’s all alone with us  
**HARRISON:** he looks like rape bait

Carson had to read that message twice over. Then again. 

**JACKSON:** delightfully helpless.  
**HARRISON:** i swear if he doesn’t move i’m taking his wallet  
**CARSON:** wtf is wrong with you guys lol  
**JACKSON:** lighten up baby bro  
**HARRISON:** it’s a joke, carson.  
**HARRISON:** you should post this on twitter  
**JACKSON:** i was saving it for my personal collection.  
**HARRISON:** what do you think carson? Twitter?

Carson paused. On one hand, he felt bad for Matt, because Carson knew if he was in this situation, asleep on the sidewalk in a foreign country, he wouldn’t want his friends taking and posting photos of him. On the other hand, they were his older brothers, and he knew that his opinion didn’t really matter, they just wanted to know he had their backs. That he was on their side.

 **CARSON:** i dunno. 

The next message that came in was a photo of Harrison, holding Matt’s wallet up in front of his prone body, as if he was gloating that he’d rooted through his shoulder bag and taken it. 

**JACKSON:** real insightful carson.  
**CARSON:** what the fuck ever, man. You’re too pussy to post that shit anyways 

Carson was ready to end the conversation, but the next text he got was a twitter link. Jackson had, in fact, posted the photo of Matt, for everyone to see. 

**JACKSON:** who’s the pussy now?  
**HARRISON:** lol

Carson didn’t get any more Matt photos from the Japan trip, which he was grateful for. He liked talking to his brothers, of course, but he didn’t know how to respond. He’d been in Matt’s shoes before, the subject to Jackson and Harrison’s weird brand of harassment. 

Carson hadn’t lived with Jackson in a few years, and Harrison even longer. He remembered being their punching bag when they were younger, the subject of their torment. Jackson was the ultimate perpetrator of the bullying, but Harrison had a bad habit of egging him on, and laughing to reassure Jackson what he was doing was funny, and normal. Carson remembered sitting on Jackson’s bed while he watched his older brother use binoculars to stare into their neighbors house. Telling him that maybe he’d get a chance to look when he was older.

Carson was older now. He was older and his brothers were as weird as ever, and Carson was about to move in with them, and by extension Matt as well. 

Carson liked Matt. He’d met him a few times now, when all of them had come home for the holidays. He liked Ryan too, for what it was worth, although he did kind of intimidate him. 

Ryan wasn’t all that tall, but he was big, and far more masculine than himself, his brothers, and Matt combined. He’d only ever met him once, and it was completely by chance. Ryan genuinely seemed like a fine guy. Jackson only ever bad talked him, and Harrison didn’t seem to care either way. 

Carson felt extremely lucky that his connections and circumstances lined up so perfectly, that he was able to move to LA at nineteen, and already have a place to stay, and have a job lined up. He was grateful to Matt, and to Ryan, for letting him work for them before moving on to other projects. He was grateful to be able to live with his family and his friend. 

The flight to LA was taxing, but the thrill of moving with nothing but a suitcase felt exotic, and purposeful. Almost like the stars had aligned to get Carson where he needed to be.

Harrison picked Carson up from the airport, in a 2015 Honda Civic with a bumper sticker on the passenger door that said “BIGFOOT IS REAL and he sucked me off behind an Arby’s”.

“Whose car is this?” Carson asked with a laugh, after embracing his older brother and throwing his suitcase in the trunk. 

“Oh, it’s Matt’s. I just use his whenever I’m low on gas.” Harrison explained, starting the engine and pulling out into the snail paced traffic of LAX. 

“Oh, okay…” Carson laughed, uncomfortably. 

“He doesn’t care, dude. Chill. How was your flight?”

Carson spent the car ride catching up with Harrison, talking about LA, his new job, what he wanted to do. 

“Yeah, I’m like, I’m really, really grateful for Matt, and Ryan too, coming through for me with this opportunity, y’know.” Harrison snorted. 

“Matt’s kind of a dumbass. He’ll give you anything you want with enough pressure and praise. Trust me.” Harrison laughed, looking over at Carson with a strange smirk on his face. 

“Right. Okay.” Carson said, knitting his brows. 

“You’ll see soon enough, man. Just follow me and Jackson’s lead, and you can make the most out of living with him.” 

Carson wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, but he nodded along, nonetheless. He figured his older brothers knew what they were doing, as they only wanted what was best for him, after all. 

Carson was welcomed in with a slap on the back from Jackson, while Harrison carried his suitcase into the apartment. It was nice, if not a little messy. Carson had seen photos of it of course, but it was different seeing everything in person. There were empty bottles of alcohol _everywhere_ , bottles of wine, sake, whiskey. It was a little intimidating, especially considering the fact he couldn’t even contribute to the habit since he was under twenty-one.

“I’ll make you a cocktail, little bro.” Jackson said, disappearing into the kitchen. 

“Sounds great, man, thank you.” Carson said softly. He felt a little overwhelmed, looking around the room at the alcohol and various weed paraphernalia. 

“Umm —” Carson started, unsure of what he exactly wanted to say, but he was distracted by a small yellow-orange cat brushing up against his legs. Carson kneeled down to scratch the cat behind its ears, and looked up with a grin. 

“Banana’s very friendly, don’t worry about him.” Jackson called from the kitchen. Carson picked the cat up gently, cradling it in his arms. 

A door opened from down the hallway and Carson looked up to see Matt. His arms were outstretched and he sported a comically goofy grin, his snaggletooth on display.

“Carson my man! It’s so good to see you, dude! I see you met my little guy.” Matt nodded at Banana, who wiggled out of Carson’s hands to rub his head against Matt’s leg. 

“I did, he’s —” Carson started, but was cut off by Matt pulling him into a firm hug. Carson was taken aback at the force in which Matt embraced him and laughed in shock, but he hugged Matt back. It felt very natural and comfortable and Carson was still not entirely sure what Harrison had meant on how to “make the most” of living with Matt, especially when he was this warm and inviting. He guessed he was going to find out. 

Matt pulled out of the hug and slung his arm around Carson’s shoulder instead, walking the pair of them to the kitchen where Jackson was busy preparing some kind of cocktail. 

“Carson, I’ll have one drink with you but I have evening plans. I wanna take you to lunch or something tomorrow, help you get the lay of the land.” Matt said coolly. He pulled out a chair and gestured at it for Carson to take a seat, before plopping himself down opposite him. 

“You have plans?” Jackson piped up, drawn away from his bartending to squint at Matt. 

“Yeah, yeah. Uh. Just with Ryan, y’know?” Matt said. Carson’s gaze darted between Matt and Jackson, clocking the blush on Matt’s cheeks, and the cold stare in Jackson’s eyes. 

“Well that’s uh, that’s cool dude. I’m pretty tired anyways.” Carson said, breaking the awkward silence. Harrison appeared, with Carson’s suitcase out of hand. He leaned against the doorframe and chuckled. 

“Oh I’m sure, dude. That flight’s a killer. You feeling jet lagged?” 

Jackson brought the pair of them cocktails, and waited eagerly for their reactions. Matt took a sip and instantly made a face. 

“This is so goddamn strong man, what the hell! I have to drive, dude!” Matt laughed, and shot Jackson a peculiar look.

“But do you _like_ it?” Jackson asked eagerly, directing his question at Matt. 

“I mean, if your goal was to make me go blind then it’s a smash hit.” Matt laughed. Carson clocked the dejection on Jackson’s face before he took a sip of his drink. It went down smooth and easy. 

“It’s good, Jackson, thanks. It’s not _that_ strong.” Carson emphasized, snickering. Matt just rolled his eyes. 

“Your brother just likes getting me drunk, for some freaky reason. I can’t finish this, man. I’ll get pulled over.” 

“Fine.” Jackson stated, his tone cold and upset. Matt lowered his face, but Carson wasn’t sure why. Embarrassment? Fear? 

“Fine, one more sip.” Matt said quietly. He brought the drink up to his lips and took what Carson saw as the smallest, tiniest, sip of his beverage as possible. 

“It’s delicious, Jackson.” Matt said with a wince. He stood from his chair quickly, and gave Carson a firm clap on his shoulder. 

“I’ll text you, Carson. Let’s shoot for like, noon?” 

“Sounds good, man. I’ll see you then!” Carson said, waving Matt off as he walked out of the kitchen. 

Jackson rolled his eyes when he heard the front door close. Carson took another sip of his drink, and watched as his two older brothers made silent eye contact. 

“Does he go over to Ryan’s often?” Carson asked, to break the silence. 

“Only when he’s feeling like a whore.” Harrison laughed. Jackson glared at him, and the air in the room suddenly felt so much more hostile.

“Shut the fuck up, dude. I told you not to say shit like that.” Jackson grumbled, but Harrison just laughed at him. 

“He can’t deal with the fact that Matt’s getting his back blown out by someone that isn’t him.” Harrison said. He stuck his thumb out, gesturing towards Jackson and had to dodge a punch in the arm. 

“Oh. Are Matt and Ryan like. Are they dating? That would be new, right?” Carson asked. Granted, he knew how much time the two of them spent together, but he’d always thought they were just very close platonic friends. 

“ _No._ ”  
“Kinda.”  
Jackson and Harrison spoke simultaneously. 

“They aren’t dating. Matt’s just playing hard to get.” Jackson grumbled. He handed a drink to Harrison before taking the chair that Matt had just abandoned. He curled his hand carefully around Matt’s glass, bringing it up to his mouth and licking the rim. 

Carson’s eyes flitted between his older brothers. 

“What the hell is going on…” Carson chuckled, awkwardly, looking between Jackson and Harrison like he was watching a game of tennis. Harrison snorted, before taking a seat closer to Jackson. His two older brothers stared him down. Carson gulped. 

“Matt’s kind of a pushover.” Harrison leaned back in his chair, the front legs coming off the ground while he pushed against the floor. He held his arms behind his head and looked at Jackson from the corner of his eyes. 

“Okay…” Carson said softly, still entirely confused. 

“Matt’s an asshole.” Jackson grumbled, staring at Matt’s glass and turning it slowly in his grasp. Carson stared at Jackson’s hands, at the condensation on the glass dripping down his brother's fingers. Jackson brought the glass to his lips. 

“I thought you guys were best friends?” Carson asked, his brows knit in confusion. Jackson barked out a laugh in reply. Matt’s unfinished beverage sloshed down his hand.

“We _were_ best friends. We were best friends until Matt sold his soul to mother YouTube, and all he cares about is his money, and fucking Ryan.” Jackson spat out.

“Literally.” Harrison added with a lecherous grin. Jackson punched him in the arm.

“So… what are you saying? I’m — I’m really not following here… I’m. I’m really tired, uhm,” Carson stood up from his chair, and his knees bumped awkwardly against the table.

“Sit back down, little bro.” Harrison stared at Carson, nodding at the chair. “Finish your drink.”

Carson gulped, and did as he was told.

“Carson, we love you, bro,” Jackson muttered. His words were somewhat slurred. The drink was only halfway gone. “All we’re saying… is that we like to, uh. Fuck around. With Matthew. It’s playful. Harmless.”

“Like using his car when mine is low on gas, for example.” Harrison said, as if that was normal.

“Or… taking pictures of him sleeping on the sidewalk in Japan?” Carson asked. Jackson clapped his hands together and nodded. 

“Exactly, Carson. Exactly.” 

“Speaking of…” Harrison mumbled. He opened his phone and laughed out loud. “Guess what Matt just texted me. ‘Did you use my car? I could have sworn I had at least half a tank of gas.’” Harrison read the text out loud in a mocking tone, a crude imitation of Matt’s voice.

“Ha! He’s gaining brain cells huh?” Jackson asked with a chuckle. Carson laughed along, unsure of what else to do. 

“I’m just gonna say no.” Harrison smirked, typing out his reply. 

Carson watched Jackson rock in his seat like a child at a birthday party, while Harrison deliberately lied to Matt over text. 

“I’m gonna go to sleep, I think. I’m really tired, y’know.” Carson said, and this time when he stood, Harrison didn’t question him. 

“Finish your drink at least, brother.” Jackson said, looking up from what Carson was sure was a very engaging and interesting conversation between Matt and Harrison. 

Carson picked up the glass and knocked the drink back, letting the alcohol slide smoothly down his throat. 

“That’s my boy. That’s how a fuckin’ Tucker does it.”

“Go to bed Carson. Have fun on your little playdate with Matthew tomorrow.” Harrison said with a snort, not looking up from whatever he was typing. 

“Night, guys.” Carson mumbled. 

His new bedroom was empty, save for a mattress and boxspring on the floor, a bookshelf with items his brothers and Matt didn’t use anymore, and a bedside table with a lamp on it. His suitcase had been left on his bed by Harrison, and Carson unzipped it to pull out some pajamas.

Carson had a hard time sleeping, on his new mattress in his new bedroom in a new city, but once he did manage to drift off, he slept like the dead.


	2. CHAPTER TWO

Carson went to bed early and woke up late, completely worn out from his flight and the new time zone. When he finally got out of bed, it was almost noon, and he had a missed text from Matt.

 **MATT:** sorry i couldn’t hang last night! Lmk when you wanna grab lunch   
**CARSON:** i just woke up haha. Any time i guess.   
**MATT:** im heading back to the apartment now we can just go from there 

Carson stretched, and blinked himself awake before wandering out into the living room. His brothers were nowhere to be seen, so he finally took the time to actually scope out the place where he was going to be living. 

The rather impressive bottle graveyard that he’d noticed the night prior expanded throughout multiple areas of the living room. All over the coffee table, the kitchen counter, and the bookshelf (which hosted not a single book, Carson noticed). The walls were decorated in vinyls of all genres, various glass blown animals that were mounted rather precariously, and a large rainbow flag directly above the sofa. 

Carson suspected this is what happened when three boys with wildly different interests tried their hand at interior design. 

The kitchen was better, if not for its minimalism. Half of the fridge was stocked with vegetables, organic eggs and high-quality cheeses. There was a post-it note stuck to the side of the fridge that read ‘HARRISON’S SIDE’.

“Hey bro.”

Carson startled, his head hitting the top of the fridge as he tried to straighten up. Harrison had strolled into the kitchen, wearing sunglasses and holding a large cup of iced coffee from Dunkin. 

“Fuck —” Carson cursed, rubbing his head to alleviate the pain. “Hey, dude.” 

“Lookin’ at my stuff, huh?” Harrison grinned. He leaned up against the counter and took a sip from his coffee, nodding at the open fridge, and the side that was lush with produce. 

“Uh, yeah, I guess. You holding out on everyone?” Carson laughed, pulling out a carton of eggs to read the label. 

“Those eggs cost seven dollars a carton, put them back.” 

“The fuck are you doing buying seven dollar eggs?!” Carson laughed. He opened them anyway.

“Because that’s what I like. Don’t eat them or I’ll cut you.” Harrison threatened, lifting up his sunglasses to glare at Carson until he put the eggs away. 

“Chill,” Carson mumbled. “I just wanna memorize where everything is, you know?” 

“I’ll help you out.” Harrison set his drink down and pointed. 

“Pantry next to the fridge, plates and bowls, glasses, wine glasses, beer glasses…” Harrison trailed off, pointing at cabinets while Carson tried to keep up. 

“Uhh, I’m sure it’ll stick in my brain eventually.” Carson mumbled.

Carson and Harrison turned their heads as they heard the front door open, and Carson grinned when Matt walked through the entry to the kitchen, Banana trailing in behind him.

“Morning fellas.” He said cheerfully, pulling Carson into a quick hug before leaning down to scoop Banana up into his arms.

“Hey.” Harrison said, sliding his shades back on despite the fact that they were indoors. 

“Shit, I meant to get dressed ‘n stuff.” Carson mumbled. 

“No worries dude, I can wait. Harrison can entertain me.”

“Ew.” Harrison snorted, taking a sip of his coffee. 

Matt grinned, and Carson laughed uncomfortably. 

Carson left to brush his teeth and put on some real clothes, anxious to get out of the house and get his first real glimpse at his new city.

“I kind of uh,” Carson said to Matt, before the pair of them were about to leave. “I kind of want to go to Ikea later today? I just wanna get a bedframe and like, a dresser or something, you know?” 

“No problem bro, I gotchu. Might have to get it delivered though, I doubt a bed frame is gonna fit in my car.” 

The drive to the restaurant was nice. Matt played music, and they rolled the windows down to let the air in. Carson had always enjoyed car rides. When he was younger, his brothers always gave him shit for sticking his head out the window to better feel the breeze. 

“So how was Ryan’s last night?” He asked finally, as they pulled into the parking lot of the breakfast place.

“Oh it was nice, you know. Nice to have a playdate with your bros.” Matt said playfully, and Carson snorted in reply.

“Yeah, for sure.”

“Did your brothers say some shit about it or something?” Matt asked. Carson couldn’t tell if Matt was asking him sincerely or looking for a joke answer. 

“Harrison called you a whore and Jackson got offended on your behalf.” Carson settled on. It was the truth, after all. 

“Predictable.” Matt mumbled, rolling his eyes. 

“Hey, you aren’t a whore unless he’s paying you, think of it like that!” Carson laughed. Matt didn’t.

“We aren’t like…” Matt trailed off, locking his car while they walked to the restaurant. “Me and Ryan. We aren’t like, _dating_ , or whatever.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, dude.” Carson reassured him. Matt just nodded. He stuck his hands in his pockets and tried to straighten his posture. 

They waited for a table, and soon the hostess brought the pair of them to the back of the restaurant next to a large window.

They laughed, and talked, and ordered mimosas, and talked some more. 

“You really, really, remind me of like. This is gonna sound cheesy as fuck dude,” Matt laughed, running his fingers through his hair. 

“Of what?” Carson pressed, leaning forward over the table and perching his head in his hands.

“Of like. Of me, I guess.” Matt looked out the window, seemingly lost in thought. 

“Really?” Carson asked. He tried not to sound too desperate, but he really did want Matt to continue. From everything he’s heard about Matt about his career, and his personality, he was the kind of guy that Carson would want to impress or emulate.

“I mean,” Matt said, continuing to stare out the window, not looking at Carson. “I moved here when I was nineteen too, you know?” 

Matt finally looked at him, and offered a soft smile. Carson returned it, happily. 

“You did, huh?” 

“Yes sir, to come film with Ryan and Daniel. That first month just, making shit with them, out here. It was honestly one of the best times of my life.” Matt sighed fondly in remembrance. 

“It sounds like it was fun.” Carson said, because he didn’t know what else to say. He knew how this part of the story ended. 

“It was, you know. Until. I mean, you know that too.” Matt trailed off, his voice softer and melancholic. Carson nodded, solemnly. He watched Matt look out the window again. 

“I just. I really want you to have, like… Like, a _better_ time than I did, after everything.” Carson cocked his head to the side, and frowned. The casual conversation in the restaurant around them seemed to quiet down. Carson’s focus was solely on Matt.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, like…” Matt trailed off, collecting his thoughts. “Like, living situations, I guess.” 

Carson’s mouth went dry. He swallowed, and waited for Matt to continue. 

“I’m just glad that you’re living with family, I guess. And me, of course.” Matt added, winking. Carson laughed awkwardly. 

“Right. I mean, didn’t you just live with Ryan?” Carson asked, confused. He didn’t want to press Matt, but he was clearly missing some part of the story.

“No, no. I mean, not at first.” Matt supplied. He grabbed the straw poking out of his water glass and swirled it around, avoiding Carson’s eyes. “I mean, I lived with fuckin’ Markiplier for a while.” 

“Oh! Right, I knew that. I completely forgot that you lived with him.” Carson said, and he definitely _did_ remember Jackson mentioning that to him at some point. Matt nodded, a weird half smile on his face. 

“Yup. Lived with him, worked with him… did, you know. Did stuff. With him. It doesn’t really matter.”

“Stuff?” Carson pressed, but Matt waved his hand away. 

“Unimportant. He was kind of an ass. I remember having to make, like, a statement on Twitter about how we were still on good terms but… yeah, we’re like super not.” Matt chuckled, running his fingers through his hair.

Carson and Matt finished the rest of their meal in silence. Carson unsure what to say, Matt gazing out the window in reflection. 

“I got the food.” Matt said halfheartedly, when the check was brought to them, but Carson grabbed it before Matt could slip his card inside. 

“Nah, man. I got it. It’s like my first purchase in LA, it’s symbolic.” Carson said softly.

It was a lie.


	3. CHAPTER THREE

Carson spent his first week in LA settling in, and trying to work around his new living situation. He felt like he was being tugged in different directions, between his brother’s so-called “jokes” and his want to be a good roommate to Matt. It was difficult. 

His _brothers_ made it difficult.

Carson thought he had a good relationship with his brothers. Sure, they fought and picked on him when they were younger, but he always thought that was fairly normal, since he was a younger sibling. Matt was a youngest sibling too, which only further heightened his awareness of their bullying. 

Carson had been in LA for two weeks. The four of them were hanging out in their living room, listening to records, smoking weed, drinking the cocktails Jackson made for them. It was nice to have a bartender wannabe as a roommate. 

“You know — you know why me and Carson get along so well?” Matt asked, his words slurred. He smiled at Carson, who sat next to him on the sofa. 

“We’re both babies. Youngest siblings fuckin’ rule, man!” Matt held out a hand to Carson for a high five. Carson laughed, and gladly slapped Matt’s hand, grinning at his brothers. Harrison snickered, and lit up a new joint. 

“Yeah, sure. Matt, you might be older but you’re the _actual_ youngest sibling here.” Matt scrunched his face in, confused. 

“How the hell does that make sense, Harrison? I’m older than Carson, _and_ Jackson.” 

“You’re older than me by like ten days, man.” Jackson said, pulling his foot back and kicking Matt in the ribs. 

“The fuck, dude! That hurts!” Matt hiccuped, bringing his long legs up to curl against his chest. 

“It makes sense —” Harrison took another hit off the joint before passing it to Jackson on the couch. He spread out in his armchair, taking up as much space as possible. “It makes sense, Matt, because we’re already siblings, and you’re like a little add-on. You’re like the annoying younger sister.” Harrison raised an eyebrow at Matthew, and waited for a reply. 

“I mean, I see you as an older brother.” Carson chimed in, quietly. Harrison glared at him. Matt didn’t seem to notice.

“‘M not a girl, dude. What d’you even mean by that?” Matt grabbed for the joint in Jackson’s hand, and stuck it between his lips. 

“I mean don’t you take it up the ass? Seems like chick shit to me.” Harrison said, a dumb, sleazy smirk falling across his lips. Matt’s eyes bugged out and he instantly started coughing on the joint, smoke escaping from his mouth and nostrils while he hacked and wheezed, clutching his chest in pain.

“Fu-ck you, man.” Matt managed, his eyes watering. Carson leaned over and patted Matt’s back while he coughed, taking the joint from his fingers and setting it down on the ashtray sitting on the coffee table. 

“Don’t be rude, Harrison.” Jackson grumbled, tossing a mean look at his older brother. Harrison raised an eyebrow and shrugged. 

“Taking it up the ass is manly as _fuck_ in my opinion.” Jackson said, reaching over to rub Matt’s shoulder. 

“Shut the fuck up, Jackson.” Matt grumbled, pushing Jackson’s hand off his shoulder. Jackson narrowed his eyes. 

“I’ll make you another drink.” Jackson said coolly, standing and returning to the kitchen. The vinyl they were listening to needed to be flipped, so Carson got up to change it. When he turned back to his seat, Matt was absorbed in his phone, typing furiously on the tiny keyboard. 

“What’re you doing, man?” Carson asked, taking his seat and cocking his head to the side. 

“Jus’ textin’.” Matt mumbled, not looking up from whatever it was he was sending. 

“Ryan?” Harrison asked with a chuckle. 

Matt turned red. 

“Y’know, the guy who’s —” 

“Have another drink, Matthew.” Jackson said loudly, re-entering the room. He handed Matt another drink with a huge grin on his face. “Tell me you love it.” 

“Thanks.” Matt mumbled quietly, tossing his phone down on the couch and taking a regrettably large sip. 

“Ah fuck, that’s strong,” Matt winced, his face squinting up. Jackson looked at Matt expectantly, as if waiting for another reply, which never came. 

“But do you love it?” Jackson pressed on, watching Matt take another experimental drink.

“I mean,” Matt winced. “If by ‘love it’ you mean ‘want to go blind’ then yeah, man, I love it.” 

It seemed to be enough for Jackson, who took his seat next to Matt on the couch, and grabbed his shoulder again. This time Matt didn’t brush him off. 

“Harrison’s just being a fuckin’ cock.” Jackson whispered to Matt. Carson watched as Jackson massaged Matt’s shoulder harshly, tugging out little gasps and whines from Matt. He watched while Jackson moved closer to Matt. He had stopped rubbing Matt’s shoulder and was just moving his arm along the planes of his back, dipping down to touch his waist. 

“Jackson —” Matt said, in a weak, hesitant voice. 

It was like watching a car crash that Carson couldn’t look away from. Matt’s head turned slightly, searching for Carson’s gaze. Carson caught his eyes and tried to scan Matt’s face for emotions, but his expression was completely dead. Jackson placed his hand over Matt’s, the hand that held the beverage Jackson made for him. He brought it up to Matt’s lips and encouraged him to take another sip. Matt kept his mouth closed, but Jackson pinched him in the side, making him cry out, and Jackson poured his drink into his now open mouth. Matt spluttered, but gulped down what he could. 

“Dude, what the hell…” Carson finally said, after Jackson had pulled the drink away from Matt’s mouth. 

“Oh, it’s fine. I’m just helping Matt finish his drink.”

Matt didn’t say anything. He nodded weakly and pulled out his phone again. Jackson looked at his screen and frowned. 

“C’mon man, it’s _roommate_ night.” Jackson said, plucking Matt’s phone out of his hand and putting it on the coffee table. 

“Sure,” Matt said, hiccupping. He downed the rest of his drink of his own volition. 

“That’s my boy!” Jackson exclaimed. “I’ll make another. You good over there, Carson?” Jackson raised an eyebrow over at Carson, who firmly shook his head, holding up his glass and smiling.

“I’m good for now,” He replied, before turning to Matt. “Are you okay, man?” Carson asked softly. Harrison looked over at him, an eyebrow raised. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m uh, I’m fine, dude.” Matt looked over at him. His eyes were droopy and red. 

“Okay. Well, you know… you can use your phone man, I ... I don’t mind.” Carson tried to reassure him, but Matt shook his head, offering Carson a weak smile.

“No, it’s really okay. I was just checking like, twitter notifications.” Matt nodded. Harrison snorted from across the room. 

Carson was decidedly unconvinced, but he didn’t know whether or not he should say anything. Harrison’s gaze bored into him, watching him like a hawk. 

“If you say so.” Carson offered in reply. He left it at that. 

When Jackson brought Matt another drink, he slammed it back, much to Carson’s disgust, and Jackson’s delight.

Matt’s phone lit up on the table, and he reached out for it only for Jackson to grab his wrist. 

Matt pulled his hand away, and sat on it instead. 

“You guys wanna watch something instead?” Harrison asked, bored. He didn’t wait for an answer before getting up and turning off the record player. Whatever it was that Harrison put on the tv, Carson hardly paid attention to it. He was too busy watching Matt and Jackson out of the corner of his eye. Matt sat awkwardly between the pair of them, clearly trying to focus on the show, and not on Jackson’s hand trailing closer to his thigh. 

“I’m real tired.” Matt mumbled, trying to stand up, and wobbling. Jackson jumped up as well, trying to steady him. 

“I’ll help you out, man.” Jackson said, trying to sling Matt’s arm around his shoulder. 

“Dude, I’m fine. You’ve helped me enough tonight.” Matt said firmly. He shrugged Jackson’s arm off of him and grabbed his phone. “I’m drunk, okay? That’s what you wanted right?” Matt groused, hobbling off down the hallway, using the wall for support.

Jackson rolled his eyes, and Harrison laughed at him.

“You’re never gonna get him, man.” Harrison chuckled. Jackson glared at him. 

“You guys are fuckin’ weird.” Carson mumbled. He set his drink down and the coffee table and rose to his feet. 

“Where are you going?” Harrison asked pointedly. 

“I’m gonna check on Matt! He looked freaked out!” Harrison snorted. 

“He’s just a pussy, Carson. Don’t worry about him.” 

Carson glanced between his brothers. Jackson had his arms folded, watching the TV without looking up. Harrison’s expression was blank. 

He turned, ignoring the murmurs from the pair of them as he left, and walked down the hallway. He knocked on the door to Matt’s bedroom, and let himself in when he heard a soft ‘mmmph’ from behind the door. 

“Hey, man…” Carson trailed off, stepping into Matt’s bedroom and closing the door carefully behind him. “Are you okay? I know you’re drunk, I just thought I’d check on you.” Carson whispered. Carson felt the familiar touch of Banana, brushing up against his leg and he reached down to give him a pat. The overhead lights were off, and the only light source came from Matt’s phone screen, hanging above his head in the darkness. 

“‘M fine, ‘m fine. Thanks fer checkin’ on me…” Matt slurred. “Y’can turn the light on.” Matt added, clicking off his phone and sitting up on his bed. 

Carson flipped the light switch, the dark room now illuminated in a glaring yellow causing both of them to squint.

“Fuck, maybe that was a bad idea…” Matt mumbled. Carson walked slowly to Matt’s bed, and sat carefully on the edge, unsure if Matt wanted him there at all. 

“I love Jackson, you know?” Matt said, out of nowhere. Carson just sat and listened, watching Matt’s expression carefully. 

“I do too. He’s my brother.” Carson replied, and Matt gave back an over exaggerated nod.

“Of course! ‘N I love him _like_ a brother. He jus’ sometimes does this thing where…” 

Carson sat patiently. Matt rubbed his eyes, and brought his knees up to his chest, hugging them close. His eyes were glossed over, fixated and spaced out completely. 

“I’s jus’... ah fuck, w’as the word? Reminiscent? Yeah, tha’s it.” 

“Of what?” Carson pressed, watching Matt twirl his fingers together awkwardly. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” He added. Matt shook his head. 

“It’s ok-ay,” Matt hiccupped, clutching his chest. “Just. When I was younger, y’know? Mark used to do stuff like that to me.” Matt turned his head to the side, staring out his bedroom window. His voice was small, and far away, as though he was lost in his memories. The slurs in his speech were gone, as if merely thinking about the topic sobered him up completely. 

“Like… like what?” Carson’s mouth went dry. He watched Matt intently while he gathered his thoughts. The room was so quiet Carson swore he heard his heartbeat. Matt let out a deep sigh. 

“Don’t fuckin’. Don’t spread this shit, okay Carson.” Matt stared at him, his eyes firm and face tight. “The only person who knows this is Ryan.” he added with a whisper. Carson felt a sudden surge of responsibility well up inside of him. He straightened up, abandoning his hunch and waited for Matt to continue. 

Matt glanced over at his bedroom door, staring at the crack underneath the frame to try and catch a glimpse of a shadow. 

“Carson, forreal, this doesn’t leave this room.” Matt whispered. Carson gave him a firm nod, and moved closer to Matt on the bed. 

“Mark used to be like. Really, really overly touchy. With me.” Carson went pale. 

“How?” Carson asked, Matt shook his head.

“Like…” Matt trailed off. “Like letting hands linger too long, rubbing my back and thighs and stuff. He tried to proposition me once when I… well, when I was drunk.” Matt offered, throwing his hands up in mock surprise.

“I told him no but… I mean if Ryan hadn’t come in when he did, I don’t know what would’ve happened.” 

Carson turned sheet white. He stared at Matt with his mouth agape. Dumbfounded. 

“I’m too pretty for my own good. That’s what Mark told me, that’s what…” Matt hiccupped, derailing his own sentence.

“I’m so sorry that happened to you, Matt. I won’t tell anyone, I promise.” Carson whispered. He wasn’t sure if he should comfort Matt, reach out and hold him. He didn’t know if that would make it better or worse. 

“S’okay. Thank you.” Matt mumbled. He looked out the window again, at the clear, dark sky. The streetlight outside shining weakly against the pavement. Carson startled when Banana jumped up on the bed, trotting over to Matt and butting his head up against his knee. 

The room around them was able to breathe again when Matt’s phone lit up. Ryan was calling him. 

“I’m gonna take this, if you don’t uh…” Matt said quietly, holding up his phone. 

“Of course, yeah. I’m sorry, Matt, I ...” He realized Matt probably didn’t want his pity right now, and Matt’s pleading eyes and pathetic smile was all Carson needed before he turned and left the room. 

“Hey, Ryan. Yeah, ’m okay…” Carson heard before he shut Matt’s door. 

Carson stood outside Matt’s door, straining to listen in on whatever conversation Matt was having over the phone. He knew he shouldn’t be snooping, but he felt utterly blindsided and distraught at the information he’d just received. His heart had dropped in his chest when Matt spoke those words. Matt was nineteen. _He_ was nineteen. Carson thought he was going to be sick. 

He stepped into the bathroom in the hallway and clicked on the light. The fan also came to life, and drowned out any noise in the background. He couldn’t hear Matt, he couldn’t hear whatever it was his brothers were watching in the other room. Carson just stared at his reflection in the mirror, and listened to the fan whir above him. 

Nineteen years old. Just moved to LA, he’d just lost one of his friends, and was being propositioned by a… How old was Mark? Carson did a perfunctory google search and found out he had been twenty-six. 

It was legal, sure. But it didn’t feel like it was. 

Carson took a deep breath, and splashed some cold water on his face before stepping out of the bathroom to face his brothers. 

He had a plan in his head. Actually tell his brothers off for once in his life, instead of letting the pair of them walk all over him, or try to rope him into their freaky mind games. 

“Is he crying on the phone to Ryan?” Jackson asked, his tone cold, yet fragile. 

“Uhh, he’s not crying.” Carson settled on replying, choosing to defend Matt since his brothers obviously weren’t letting up.

“He will be. He really is a girl, don’t you think, Carson?” Harrison asked, cocking his head to the side while he waited for an answer. 

“Whatever, dude.” Carson mumbled. He knew his response was cowardly. 

Carson sat down on the couch, his legs tucked up underneath him. He tried to focus on the show, but the weight of Matt’s well-being held him down. He couldn’t help but picture himself thrust into whatever bullshit Matt had gone through. Carson felt a pang of guilt for not jumping in while he watched Jackson pour a drink down Matt’s throat, or say anything when Harrison called him a girl. 

They were his brothers, after all. And he didn’t want them to hate him, or think any less of him for not joining in. They’d been teasing him, and teasing alongside him for years. Plus, Matt was a grown man, he could stand up for himself.

Carson thought of Matt’s broken, quiet voice from earlier, admitting to… whatever it was that Mark had done to him five years ago, that still made him feel so helpless and fragile. 

He had to do his best. The best he could to help Matt through whatever he was going to. Because his brothers certainly weren’t.


	4. CHAPTER FOUR

Matt drove them to the bar, because Matt always drove them _everywhere._ It’s something Carson noticed within the first week of living with Matt and his brothers. Harrison didn’t even need to convince Matt to drive them anymore. It was an acquiescence, an acceptance. 

Carson was always stuck with being designated driver, seeing as he wasn’t twenty-one yet, but that was okay with him. He had a feeling he was going to need to keep an eye out for his brothers. 

And for Matthew. 

The venue was playing some local bands, and Carson had to have big black X’s drawn on his hands, and the bartenders shot him dirty looks when he accompanied Jackson to the bar. 

“Three whiskey sours, please. Make one of ‘em a double.” Jackson had to yell to the bartender over the chatter at the bar and the music playing on stage. But the bartender gave him a curt nod, squinting at the X’s on Carson’s hand. 

“It’s not for…” Carson started saying, but the man had turned around. Jackson chuckled. 

“Don’t even bother, dude, it doesn’t matter.” Jackson said, leaning up against the bar. 

“If it doesn’t matter, then why do you guys never let me drink when we go out.” Carson groused. He picked at his fingernails and looked around the crowded bar. Matt and Harrison were lounging in a booth at the back of the venue. 

“This one's the double,” the bartender said, pointing at the drink in the center of three glasses “You wanna open a tab?” 

“Sure do.” Jackson said, handing over his card. 

“Can you take that one?” Jackson asked, gesturing to the glass in the middle. “That one’s for Matt.” Jackson smirked at Carson, and wiggled his eyebrows at him. 

Carson took the drink in hand, and followed Jackson through the crowded floor, maneuvering through the crowds and trying to spill the drink he’d been instructed to carry. 

“We’re back, fellas!” Jackson announced, plopping on the bench next to Matt. He handed Harrison his drink and took a sip from his own. 

“Oh, sorry,” Carson mumbled, handing Matt the double and taking a seat. 

“Thank you, my man.” Matt said. He tossed Carson a genuine smile before he took a sip. Matt winced and shut his eyes, sticking out his tongue once he'd gotten the drink down. 

“That was a heavy fuckin’ pour, jeeze.” Matt said with a laugh. Carson’s eyes were wide, flitting between Jackson and Matt. Maybe it was good he wasn't drinking. 

“Mine’s fine. Maybe you're just a pussy, Matt.” Harrison laughed, taking a sip of his cocktail. 

“I'm not a pussy, asshole.” Matt groused, twirling his cocktail. 

“Prove it. Why don't you chug your drink?” 

“What is this, a frat party?” 

“Did you even go to one of those before you dropped out?” Harrison quirked his head, in false thought. 

“Of course I did!” Matt spluttered, red in the face. The crowd in the bar suddenly erupted in applause, and Carson glanced over his shoulder, there was a set change happening on stage, and the next band was getting ready to perform. When he turned back, Matt was halfway through chugging his drink. 

“That's more like it, dude!” Harrison leaned over to clap Matt on the shoulder. Matt, startled, and dribbled some of his drink down his chin. He coughed once he’d finally managed to finish it, scrunching up his face and grabbing his chest. 

The music started up again, and a heavy bass riff filled the bar. Carson bobbed his head along to the music, where Matt was nearly dancing in his seat. 

“You guys wanna do shots?” Matt asked, he looked between Jackson and Harrison.

“Fuck yeah.” Said Jackson. His eyes were fixated on Matt's mouth, the drying trail of whiskey on his chin. 

“I’ll go get ‘em.” Harrison offered, setting his drink down on the table. “Matt, give me a twenty.” Harrison held out the palm of his hand. Carson narrowed his eyes at his brother in suspicion. Harrison ignored him.

Matt followed Harrison’s outstretched arm until he met his gaze. 

“Uhh, didn’t you say you’d get them?” Matt asked.

“You owe me, man. Jackson, back me up. Doesn’t Matt owe me?” Harrison looked over at Jackson, lounging next to Matt on the bench. 

“Oh yeah man, you totally do. From like a couple days ago, remember?” Jackson confirmed, nodding his head in agreement with his brother. 

“Carson?” Harrison asked, and Carson suddenly felt three pairs of eyes on him, boring into his soul. He really didn’t know if Harrison was telling him the truth or not. 

“I... I don’t remember —” He started, but Harrison interrupted his train of thought. 

“Yeah you do, Carson, you were there.” Carson frowned, unsure what exactly brother was talking about, but he didn’t want to start an argument with him.

“I uh, I really don’t know. Maybe?” Carson settled on, hoping that his response was good enough to satiate his brother’s bizarre mind games. 

“Fine, whatever.” Matt said, pulling out his phone and wallet from his pockets. He took out a twenty and handed it over to Harrison, defeated, outnumbered. Carson bit his lip. 

“I’m gonna go piss.” Matt mumbled, standing up from the table rather haphazardly and disappearing to find the restroom. 

“He’s such a pushover. You’ll get it soon, Carson. You’re getting there.” Harrison said, patting Carson on the shoulder before walking off to get a round of shots at the bar. Carson watched him walk away, and when he turned back around, Jackson was mindlessly going through Matt’s phone, that the other man had left on the table along with his wallet. 

“Dude! What’re you doing?!” Carson asked, quickly glancing around to see if Matt was on his way back. 

“Relax. He takes forever to piss. This shit isn’t even interesting anyway.” Jackson tossed the phone to Carson, who scrambled to catch it. 

“The passcode is seven nine two six, if you’re curious.” Jackson said. Carson _wasn’t_ curious. But he opened the phone anyway. 

“Oh,” He said, staring at the keypad. “You mean it’s RYAN.” 

“No. It’s seven nine two six, dipshit.” Jackson shot back with a glare. Carson tried not to laugh. He set Matt’s phone back on the table. 

“It’s literally just like, pictures of cats and shitty memes. In his text messages, I mean.” Jackson explained. Carson didn’t have time to question why Jackson was snooping through Matt’s phone, when Carson heard loud footsteps approaching their table.

“Oh thank god!” Matt appeared out of nowhere, and reached for his phone on the table, clutching it to his chest. 

“Fuck, I thought someone took it while I was walking to the bathroom or something, I almost had a heart attack.” Matt sat down, changing from the bench where he’d been before with Jackson, and opted instead to take Harrison’s chair. 

“Carson d’you wanna dance? Or like, listen to the music? Once we get the shots, of course.” Matt said. Carson hummed, thinking to himself. The vibes at the table were kind of rancid, with Carson’s newfound knowledge of Jackson’s snooping and Harrison’s… theft, looming heavy on his mind. The music sounded far more appealing.

“Yeah, Matt. I’ll dance with you.”

“I’ll join you,” Jackson jumped in, eagerly. Carson watched Matt’s face try not to fall. “I like the music.” 

“And, uh… and leave Harrison all alone? C’mon.” Matt asked, wearily.

“What about me?” Harrison had just come back with three shots of whiskey held precariously in his hands. 

“Oh,” Matt took one of the shots. “Oh me and Carson were gonna go listen to the music and Jackson wanted to come but I didn’t want you to be, like, alone, y’know?” Matt babbled, his mouth moving faster than his brain could keep up. 

“But you’re a big boy, right Harrison? You don’t need supervision?” Jackson asked his brother pointedly. 

Harrison said nothing, just handed Jackson his shot, and raised his before knocking it back. Matt and Jackson quickly followed his lead. 

“I’ll be fine.” Harrison said through pursed lips. 

“Great! Let’s take a look at what’s playin’ boys.” Jackson grinned. Matt offered back a weak smile, and shot Carson a knowing look, like he was asking for something. Whatever it was, Carson didn’t know how to give it to him. 

They weaved through the now rather large crowd of people watching the bands. Carson couldn’t remember how many were playing, he came to local music spots fairly regularly just because he liked it, even when he wasn’t babysitting his brothers and Matt. 

Which… he really shouldn’t have to do, seeing as he was younger than them. Carson had come to LA initially because he was in a rut. An unfulfilling life back in South Carolina was driving him absolutely insane, and where better to go than to sunny and beautiful Los Angeles?

He was glad he moved out here, he truly was. There were so many more opportunities here for him, and Matt had racked up a surprisingly large amount of industry connections that Carson was ready and willing to mooch off of. But there were certainly moments where Carson remembered why he’d wanted to try and make it on his own for so long, without the help of his brothers. 

Jackson and Harrison had a bizarre sense of loyalty that Carson didn’t always know how to follow. He recalled once, following a seventeen-year-old Harrison around the mall when he was only ten, watching his brother put on a jacket at Nordstrom’s and then walk out, Carson shaking and trembling behind him, nervous and jittery the entire time they walked back to Harrison’s car. 

”Harry! Why would you do that?” Carson whispered, gazing at his older brother with wide, intense eyes. 

“Chill out, bro. We didn’t get caught. And besides, you’d have my back if we did, right?” Harrison shoved Carson playfully and started up the car. “Besides, I got you somethin’ too.” Carson was confused, but Harrison pulled out a baseball cap that had been stuffed rather haphazardly down the back of his pants. 

Carson didn’t care though, a gift was a gift, and he wore that hat proudly, because his older brother gave it to him, and he loved his older brother more than anything.

“This shit is kinda good though,” Matt leaned in to Carson to speak into his ear. Jackson hovered close to Matt, standing behind the both of them and breathing down their necks while they watched the band on stage. 

“Yeah, yeah it’s pretty good. I don’t think I’ve seen these guys before.” 

“You know what would be fuckin’ dope, dude? If you and me like, start doing shit together. Making videos or whatever.” Matt said, casually. The song ended, and Carson took the opportunity given the silence to turn to him, quizzically. 

“Really? You don’t think, like… I mean you have your own stuff going on.”

“I’m always on that grind, baby! I’d love to start a new project.” Matt said, flashing Carson a huge grin. 

“That’d be fuckin’ sick man. Maybe we can like, bring my art into it or something?” Matt nodded enthusiastically. 

“I’ll be right back,” Jackson mumbled from behind them. Matt let out a sudden squeak, and whipped his head to look at Jackson as he left. 

“You okay?” Carson asked, unsure of what had just transpired. 

“He fuckin’ pinched my side,” Matt said, rubbing his waist. “Fuck, that really hurt…” 

“Shit, I’m sorry, man.” Carson said, but the music had started playing again and Carson’s reply was drowned out by a loud drum solo. 

Beside him, Matt had lifted up his shirt to examine the spot where Jackson had pinched him. Carson couldn’t hear what he was saying, but Matt mumbled something to himself before dropping his shirt and crossing his arms tightly across his chest. 

Jackson reappeared not long later, holding out another shot, which Matt accepted, murmuring a thank you in response. 

“In two years, Carson. Then you won’t have to be the designated driver.” Jackson chuckled. He clinked glasses with Matt and they both downed the shots. Jackson draped his arm around Matt’s shoulder, but Matt rolled his shoulders back to shrug them off. 

“Cut it out, man.” Matt mumbled. Jackson just laughed, and wrapped his arm around Matt’s waist instead. Carson was about to comment, to tell his brother to back off, but Harrison had just found his way to the three of them, holding a glass of beer in hand. 

“Carson, c’mere. There’s like, an art gallery thing in the back. You’d fuckin’ love it.” Carson’s eyes widened. 

“Wait, really? Is it new? I’ve been here before and never seen anything.” 

“Yeah, man. C’mon.” Harrison nodded his head, gesturing for Carson to follow him. Carson looked to Matt. He wasn’t keen on leaving him alone with Jackson, not after what Matt had divulged with him about Mark. He didn’t have to say anything for Matt to know what he was thinking. 

“Go ahead, dude. I’m cool." Matt said. He smiled at Carson. Jackson and Harrison stared at him. 

“Okay, man.” Carson said softly, the glaring looks from his brother’s receding once he agreed. 

Carson followed Harrison back through the bar, towards the back with the tables and booths. 

“So, where is it? Is it like —”

“Oh, there isn’t one. I want you to help me sneak into the staff room.” Carson blinked.

“Uhm. Why?” 

“Because, dude,” Harrison punched Carson in the arm. “I wanna steal something.” As if that were reason enough. 

Harrison had never been able to kick his weird shoplifting habit. He’d held it since he was a teenager, but Carson hadn’t witnessed it for a long time, not since he first moved out for college. Carson had just come to terms with the fact that the majority of his birthday and Christmas presents were stolen. He could live with it. 

Harrison led the both of them to a room with a large “STAFF ONLY” sign on the door, and he jiggled the handle, only for it to open on the first try. 

“Nice,” He whispered, opening the door casually and slipping through. 

“Dude! What the fuck!” Carson hissed, glancing around frantically. He felt like he was a kid again, following his older brother around and fearing they’d get caught. Even though Harrison never got caught. 

“No one’s coming, Carson. Hurry up.” Carson took a deep breath, and scurried through the door behind his brother. 

It appeared to be some kind of staff room. There was a desk with a beaten up computer, a sofa, and a minifridge. Harrison went for the coat rack in the corner. 

“What are you even trying to steal? We’re in the back room at a bar.” 

“The fuckin’ bartenders here are rude as fuck. Every time I come here, like, remember when we saw that band like last week?” Harrison had started rifling through the jackets hanging up on the rack, pulling them off the hook to get a better look at them. Carson just stood there. 

“Uh, yeah.” Carson replied weakly. 

“Right, everytime I went to get a drink the bartender was like ‘this isn’t for him right?’ or like ‘these for you?’ No shit they’re for me, fuckin’ bitch. I’m not gonna feed my baby brother alcohol. Not in public, anyway.” 

“But you aren’t above stealing jackets?” 

Harrison shot Carson a look, raising his eyebrow. 

“No, I’m not. Do you like this one?” Harrison held out a jean jacket with a sherpa collar and tossed it to Carson. He managed to catch it, and held it up while Harrison started digging through the pockets.

“What are you even looking for?” Carson asked, annoyed. Harrison shrugged. 

“I dunno. Anything really. Something for each of us.” He pulled out receipts, quarters, he found some kind of blue crystal, and mumbled something about giving it to Jackson.

“C’mon man, this is nuts. Why are you doing this?” Carson pleaded, he kept glancing back to the door, anxious that someone was about to barge in, ban them from the bar for life, and call the cops. Carson really didn’t want to be arrested. 

“I told you why. Don’t flip out, bro. There’s a show going on, no one’s coming back here.” 

Carson stood next to him awkwardly, still holding the jean jacket, gripping it tightly. 

“Just put the damn jacket on, Carson. Check this one out!” Harrison held up an impressive leather jacket. He raised his eyebrows, a huge grin on his face before he put the jacket on. 

“Dude, this is fuckin’ amazing. A fuckin’ _steal_.” 

“Pun intended?” Carson mumbled. He refused to put the jean jacket on.

“You’re such a loser, Carson. I’m trying to make you cool, help you branch out. You can’t just start painting and take photographs and expect females to fawn over you. What’s this?” Harrison turned his attention to a cardboard box tucked away in the corner, kneeling down to inspect its contents.

“I’ve never once mentioned looking for a girlfriend, but okay.” Carson said, annoyed. 

“What, are you a queer like Jackson too?” Harrison teased. From the cardboard box he pulled out a plain black tee shirt that said ‘STAFF’ on the back, with the name of the bar written on the left breast pocket. 

“Matt will like this, let’s get out of here.” Carson held his head down as he followed Harrison out of the back room, clutching the jean jacket to his chest in a lame attempt to conceal it. 

“Since when is Jackson into dudes anyway…” Carson mumbled, as Harrison led them back to their booth in the back of the venue. 

“I don’t fucking know. He was dating chicks through college and then the second we came out to LA? His brain fuckin’ rewired. Although, to be honest,” Harrison lowered his voice and leaned in towards Carson. “I think he just has a thing for Matt.”

“Well, no fucking shit. I can tell that much.” Carson said with a pinched laugh. 

“You want my take on it?” Harrison asked. Carson nodded eagerly. 

“My take, is that it’s pure jealousy.”

“Of who? Ryan?” Carson asked in a hushed whisper. Harrison nodded emphatically. 

“Are they even dating?” Carson asked. Matt’s relationship with Ryan was a bit of a mystery to him. Matt never explicitly called Ryan his boyfriend. Carson guessed they were friends and business partners first and foremost. 

“They’re fucking. I think they’re exclusive, but they aren’t, like, out. To either of their families or to their fans. Jackson banned Ryan from the apartment.”

“What? Why?” Harrison shrugged.

“I honestly didn’t think it was warranted. But hey, Ryan not being around makes it easier to fuck with Matt, so I’m not gonna complain.” Carson didn’t know how to respond, so he didn’t say anything. 

“I’m gonna grab another beer.” Harrison said, standing from his seat and staring down at Carson. “Want anything?”

“Uh, water would be great actually, yeah. Thanks man.” Carson mumbled. He slumped back in his seat as his brother walked off. 

Carson sighed, and clutched his forehead. 

He knew, internally, that there was something very wrong here. That his brothers were being unkind and unfair and taking advantage of Matt in almost every conceivable way. At the same time, he didn’t want his brothers’ ire directed at him. He’d been the butt of the joke the entire time they were growing up together, and he often idolized them, Harrison especially, even though Harry seemed more content with petty theft than being a good role model. 

Carson was so wrapped up in his own thoughts he failed to see Jackson, hobbling towards him holding a very, _very_ drunk Matt up. 

“Holy shit,” Carson said, standing the second he realized what was happening, and rushing to Matt’s side. 

“Carson…. Hey,” Matt said, hiccuping. 

“What the fuck happened?” Carson said, glaring at Jackson. 

“He wanted to do shots.” Jackson said with a shrug. 

“Yeah Carson. We were just doin’ shots. I don’t know how come Jackson isn’t like me…” Matt mumbled. His head lolled against the seat of the booth.

“Hmm, yeah. Why _isn’t_ Jackson like you.” Carson stared as his brother, waiting for a reply. Jackson ignored him. 

“Right?! I-it’s… so silly. I was just started talkin’ about Ryan ‘n then Jackson got all quiet,” Matt said, and he leaned right next to Carson’s head, close enough that he could smell the strong stench of alcohol. “I don’t think he likes Ryan all that mu-uch.” Matt ended with a hiccup. Carson’s nose scrunched up, whiskey heavy on Matt’s breath and clogging Carson’s nose. 

“Okay, you need to go home.” Carson stated, standing up. 

“What’s going on?” Harrison had just reappeared, and Carson reached for the glass of water he’d requested, handing it to Matt. 

“Drink that.” Carson instructed. Matt whined, but slowly started gulping down the glass of water. It dribbled down his chin and onto his shirt. “I’m taking him home. You guys can call a fucking uber, I don’t care. He’s way too drunk to stay out with everyone.” Jackson scoffed. 

“He’s fine! He’s just being a drama queen.” Jackson insisted, moving to Matt’s side and trying to help him sit up right in the booth. 

“He’s not fine! He’s wasted out of his mind, and he’s not gonna have fun. I’m taking him home.” 

Carson looked between Jackson, and Harrison, as if he was daring them to do something, say something, or try to talk him out of this one. Jackson glared at him. Harrison didn’t seem to care. 

“Here, Matt. I got this for you.” Harrison handed Matt the staff t-shirt he’d taken from the back room. Matt clutched it tightly, looking up at Harrison with wide eyes. 

“Thank you Harry! So nice of you…” Matt rubbed the shirt against his face, smiling happily. 

“What’s your problem, Carson?” Jackson growled at him. Carson took a step back before straightening up and staring his brother in the eye. 

“I don’t have a problem, Jackson. I’m being a good friend.” 

They looked at each other, eyes locked in what felt like a never-ending staring contest.

“Just let them go, Jackson.” Harrison said, interjecting. He rounded to the booth to help Matt, who was laying on his side using the t-shirt as a pillow, stand up. “Carson?” Harrison cocked his head to the side, his eyes gesturing to Matt, who looked close to falling asleep. 

Carson tore his eyes away from Jackson, and tried to ignore the ugly smirk on his face. He hooked Matt’s arm around his shoulder and guided him out of the bar.


	5. CHAPTER FIVE

“Where we goin’?” Matt slurred, his arms wrapped tight around Carson’s shoulders as he walked the pair of the outside. 

“The car, and then home. How do you feel?” Carson asked softly. Matt’s legs were hardly working, and Carson was amazed at his ability to walk so well for being so intoxicated. 

“Real, real warm. Mmmm…” Matt trailed off. 

“That’s good, buddy,” Carson mumbled. “Where are your keys?” 

“M’ belt loop,” Matt mumbled, not making any effort to retrieve them as the pair of them hobbled down the sidewalk towards his car. 

“Is it okay if I grab them?” Carson asked carefully, not wanting to touch Matt in any way he wouldn’t like, especially after what Jackson might have been doing.

“Ye-ah, man, it’s cool…” Matt hiccuped. “Thanks for askin’. No one ever does…” 

“Everyone should ask.” Carson sighed, unhooking Matt’s keys from his belt loop. Thankfully, they hadn’t parked far from the venue, and Carson leaned Matt up against the side of the Car while he unlocked it. 

“Do you want to lay down in the back?” Carson asked. Matt knitted his brows, and his mouth fell open while he thought.

“I’ll prolly fall asleep if I lay down so…” Carson nodded. He jogged to the passenger door to open it, before throwing Matt’s arm back around his shoulder and helping him sit down. 

“Can you manage to buckle yourself?” He asked, and Matt nodded, mumbling under his breath. Carson closed the door and sighed deeply, trying to relax. 

The bar was about a half hour drive from their house, but Carson didn’t want Matt to vomit, so he took it slower than he normally would. The people driving behind him would just have to live with it.

“Y’kno, what I said before isn’t _always_ true, Ryan asks. He always asks…” 

“I’m glad you have him, Matt, I truly am.” Carson mumbled, slowing to stop at a red light. 

“He’s soooo good to me, Carson. I-I dunno what I’d do.” Matt turned his head, and Carson stole a glance at him. He looked disheveled. Drunk and pink in the face, but the glaze over his eyes and the smile on his lips were warm and sweet. 

“You guys aren’t dating though?” Carson asked, turning back to the road when the light turned green. 

“It’s…. it’s complicated.” Matt slurred. Carson waited for him to continue. 

“I... I like — I like guys. I’ve known that I like ‘em for… feels like forever. I jus’ havent been able to say it until recently.” 

“And Ryan doesn’t?” Carson pressed. Matt just shrugged. 

“Nono, it’s not like that… Ryan’s just… I’m his exception. That’s what he says.” Matt used air quotes around the word exception, and Carson hummed.

“So he doesn’t want to date you?” Carson asked, and then immediately regretted it. “Shit, that came out wrong. Uhh,” Carson glanced over at Matt, who had turned his body to stare out the window. 

“Are we almost home?” Matt whispered, not looking at him. 

“Five minutes. You feeling okay?” He watched Matt nod before leaning his head forward to press his forehead against the glass. 

“You coulda stayed at the bar.” Matt mumbled, so quiet Carson could barely hear him. 

“What? Why would I do that?” Carson asked, as he finally turned onto their block. 

“Because they’re _your_ brothers. I- I’m sure Ryan woulda come to get me.” Matt hiccuped again, suddenly lurching back and grabbing his chest. 

“Fuck.” Carson swore under his breath. He pulled into a parking spot quickly, and jumped out of the car before he could turn it off, bolting to the passenger side to open Matt’s door before… 

He pulled the door open just in time for Matt to vomit onto the sidewalk. Carson winced when the splatter landed on his shoes, and he quickly took several steps back. 

“Fu-uuck…” Matt groaned, lolling his head to the side. He hit it against the edge of the door and winced, gasping in pain and reaching to cradle his head. 

“Hang on, man.” Carson rushed to turn the car off and lock the doors before reaching over to click open Matt’s seatbelt. He maneuvered around the vomit to help Matt stand up outside the car. 

“You okay?” Carson asked. Matt was still gripping his head where it had smashed into the doorframe, but he nodded.

“I jus’ wanna lay down, Carson. ‘M so drunk.” Matt said in a weak voice. Carson nodded, and guided him back down the sidewalk. Throwing up must have sobered Matt up some; his legs seemed to be working better than before, at least. The walk up the front steps was a pain, but once they were inside the threshold Carson felt at ease. 

“How come you’re sooo nice to me, Carson?” Matt asked, falling out of Carson’s arms and using the wall to balance himself as he made his way down the hallway. His fingers ran across the paintings that Carson had hung up, and Matt stopped to look at them. 

“Your stuff is so good, dude,” Matt said, looking over at Carson with a huge grin on his face.

“Thanks. You can’t see them in the dark though.” Carson laughed, flicking on the light in the hallway. Matt threw his arm up to cover his eyes, hissing at the sudden change in atmosphere. 

“Goddamn that’s bright.” Matt complained, continuing down the hallway and stumbling into the bathroom. Carson sighed, and went to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. 

Carson knew he didn’t actually need to babysit Matt when he was like this. He was a grown man who could get his own water and could have probably just called an uber for himself. There was just something about Matt that intrigued Carson. Maybe it was that Matt had said Carson reminded him of himself. Maybe it was that Carson really did see him as an older brother. Living with his actual, blood-related older brothers only made him more aware of this fact. He was the baby, even though Harrison said otherwise. 

Carson heard Matt stumble throughout the rest of the hallway, and the sound of his bedroom door opening. Carson made his way down the hall, glass in hand, and stopped at Matt’s door. 

The door was ajar, so Carson pushed it open. Matt was laying on his bed in the dark, still in his street clothes, and curled up in a fetal position. Banana had curled up next to him, and Carson couldn’t help but smile at the soft scene laid out before him. Until of course, he remembered how Matt got there. 

“Here, have some water.” Carson said, placing the glass on Matt’s bedside table. “Can I sit here?” Carson asked. Matt nodded before he sat up. Banana looked disgruntled at being disturbed so soon after he’d gotten comfortable, but Matt just scooped him up and plopped him in his lap. 

“He loves you.” Carson chuckled, as Matt reached across him to grab the water on the nightstand. 

“He’s my lil man.” Matt mumbled before taking a huge gulp of water. Carson laughed at him, reaching out to scratch behind Banana’s ears. 

Matt finished the water probably too quickly, and set the empty glass down before he fell backwards on the bed. 

“‘M gonna have the worst hangover tomorrow, I just know it.” Matt said quietly, groaning. 

“Probably.”

“Iss my own fault, really. Jackson bought me all those shots ‘n how could I say no, y’know? Tha’s a lotta money.” Matt rubbed his eyes while he spoke, irritating them enough that when he pulled his hand away they looked puffy. 

“How many did he buy you?” Carson asked. 

“I ‘unno. Four? It’s enough to get me drunk at two, if I‘m being honest. I‘m all, I‘m all small ‘n shit.” Carson laughed. 

“Yeah. I guess you are kinda small.” 

“Always have been. Ever since I can remember. Ry’n likes it… He says — he says I gotta cute face ‘n a tiny waist,”' Matt giggled. “I guess he’s right.” 

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier. In the car.” Carson interjected suddenly, derailing Matt’s happy thought. Matt got quiet. 

“It’s okay. I — I mean, who’d wanna date me, anyways, right?” Matt said. His demeanor shifted instantly, his voice less playful, and far away.

“Don’t say that, man.” Carson replied, in an attempt to comfort him, only for Matt to shake his head in response. 

“That's sweet Carson, but I‘m not a date-able guy. I got so much shit behind me, you have no idea…”

“I know. I mean. I know about Mark.” Carson said. Matt stared at him, and Carson regretted that sentence instantly. It was entirely possible Matt didn’t even remember telling Carson at all, that night a few weeks back. Carson opened his mouth to say something, but Matt spoke up. 

“Yeah. You know about Mark.” 

A heavy silence fell over the pair of them, fractured only by a yawn from Banana, who settled himself on top of Matt’s chest. 

“There’s things I can’t —” Matt cut himself off, thinking. Choosing his words. Carson waited eagerly. 

“I’m a mess, Carson. There’s things I don’t even tell my therapist. I like, switch names around ‘n shit.”

“What do you mean?” Carson pressed, leaning forward, ears alert. Matt shook his head. 

“No one could understand, Carson.” Matt mumbled. “I’m going to bed now.” 

Matt didn’t kick him out so to speak, but he rolled over on his side to face the window, Banana following him and curling against his chest. Carson stood silently, and exited his room, shutting the door quietly behind him. 

Carson walked quietly down the hallway, his heart near jumping out of his chest. He turned on the light in the living room and sat down on the sofa, eyes glazed while he mulled over Matt’s words again and again. 

He pulled out his phone. 

**CARSON:** hey man, i dont know if you have my number saved but its carson. do you think you can call and check on matt in the morning? 

Carson wasn’t expecting a reply, not when it was past midnight, and not from Ryan, who he never texted to begin with, but he was surprised when something immediately came through. 

**RYAN:** Yeah. Is he okay?  
 **CARSON:** hes fine! just really drunk, i had to take him home early  
 **RYAN:** I’ll call him. Thanks Carson.

Carson startled when the front door opened, pulled out of his daze and looking up from his phone. He locked it quickly, and shoved it in his pocket. 

“You guys came back fast.” Carson said, standing to greet his brothers. 

“Harrison got us kicked out!” Jackson exclaimed, throwing his arms up and doing the most passive aggressive jazz hands Carson had ever seen. 

“Shut up, dude. You aren’t the one who fuckin’ lost here.” Harrison shoved Jackson out of the way and he nearly toppled over into the hallway. 

“Oh, boo-hoo, Harrison lost a leather jacket. You have like, fuckin’ three of them already!” Jackson shouted, fuming at his older brother. 

“Yeah, and I wanted a fourth one for free.”

“For _free_. Hilarious, dude.” Jackson took off his shoes and stalked to the kitchen. 

“Hey Carson, did you know Harrison was short on rent last month because he wanted to get a new leather jacket?” Jackson stuck his head out of the entrance to the kitchen to yell at the pair of them. 

“Guys, Matt’s asleep.” Carson tried to reason. “Shouldn’t we keep our voices down?”

“That guy sleeps like the dead. He’s probably having some freaky dream right now that we’ll have to listen to him talk about all day tomorrow.” Harrison said, rolling his eyes. He walked past Carson and collapsed in the armchair, spreading his legs and massaging his temple.

“Uhm. Do I even wanna ask what happened?” Carson laughed uncomfortably. 

“I’ll tell you.” Jackson reappeared with two shots in hand. He held one out to Carson, who accepted the drink cautiously. Jackson threw his shot back fast, wiping his mouth off with his hand. He looked at Carson expectantly, and he quickly took his shot as well. It didn’t go down as smooth as he’d hoped, and he scrunched up his face before taking a seat back down on the sofa. 

“Guy behind the bar sees Harrison literally carrying around his own leather jacket, which you two both stole out of the fucking staff room.”

“I didn’t steal anything!” Carson exclaimed defensively.

“You were an accomplice, Carson. Aiding and abetting, same fucking difference.” Jackson snapped at him. 

“It’s not a big deal, dude.” Harrison said. He grabbed a half finished joint from the ashtray on the coffee table and stuck it between his lips.

“Yes! Harrison! It _is_ a big deal because Matt’s favorite local band is playing there next weekend and now I can’t go! You had to go and get us fucking banned!” Carson could see flecks of spit flying from Jackson’s mouth as he yelled, and Harrison reached up and wiped some off his cheek. 

“You need to chill out, Jackson. Matt can go with Carson, or maybe he’ll want to take the guy he’s actually fucking, huh?” Harrison shot back. He got to his feet and crossed his arms while staring at his brother. Carson sat, intimidated and anxious while he waited for their fight to be over. Jackson wasn’t above actually throwing punches, and he really didn’t want to have to pick up after the mess. 

“Your obsession with Matt, dude? You’re gonna have to get over it eventually. Let him go.” Harrison leaned forward and punctuated his last sentence in Jackson’s face before he walked out of the living room, not turning back.

Jackson stood silently, fuming to himself.

“Uh, Jackson?” Carson finally asked, quietly. He watched Jackson’s shoulders fall. 

“Want a drink?” Jackson mumbled, head unmoving. 

“Sure.” Carson lied. 

He followed his older brother into the kitchen, and sat at the table while Jackson busied himself making some kind of elaborate cocktail. 

“What do you think?” Jackson said, setting a glass in front of Carson and taking the seat opposite him. 

Carson took a small sip of his drink. 

“It’s good.” He said, and he meant it. 

“No, no. Do you think I’m obsessed with Matt?” Jackson asked, straight to the point. Carson gulped. 

“I don’t get it,” Carson settled on. “I didn’t even think you liked guys.” 

“It didn’t even start out like that. I just —” Jackson cut himself off and sighed. He took his glasses off to rub his eyes. “He was my best fucking friend, man. He was my best friend and we did so many fucking things together, and when he got the option to he just —” Jackson stopped himself and shut his eyes. 

“He left me behind.” 

“But ...” Carson started, trying to think of what to say, what would help. “But you’re together now. I mean, you live with him.”

“I also work for him. Not only do I work for him, but I also work for _Ryan_ , the guy that he fuckin’ replaced me with.” Jackson snarled. He took another sip of his drink.

“That’s not fair, man.” Carson murmured. “They went through a lot together, I mean, Ryan especially —”

“I know, they fuckin’ trauma bonded or whatever it’s called, and now all Matt wants is Ryan’s dick.” Jackson complained. He sounded like a child who’d had their favorite toy taken away.

“So what is this?” Carson asked firmly. “Is this jealousy?” Jackson shook his head. 

“They aren’t dating. It’s only jealousy if I want something I can’t have. Who's to say I can’t have Matt?”

“I mean, well. Matt.” Carson supplied. Jackson rolled his eyes. “Who’s given you pretty much every indicator that he isn’t interested.” Carson tacked on.

“Maybe.”

The two brothers sat and finished their drinks in silence.

“If you really want to know what I think,” Carson started. “I think you need to figure out what you really want from Matt, and why you have this vendetta against him.” Jackson refused to look at him.

“Because whatever it is you want, you’re going about it the wrong way.” 

Jackson didn’t reply. Carson left him at the kitchen table, alone.


	6. CHAPTER SIX

The next month was surprisingly quiet in the Tucker/Watson household. Matt was busy with Ryan getting what they’d been charmingly referring to as the “‘Plex” ready for use, and Jackson’s workload for them started ramping up. Harrison started dating someone, so he wasn’t around as much anymore, and Carson was left to his own devices.

Carson enjoyed the alone time. Living with three other grown men, all of whom were older than him, was starting to take a toll. The undercurrent of anxiety he had felt for months now was slowly receding with the ample amount of time he had just for himself.

He painted, of course, and he worked on filmography and saved up to expand his camera collection, which had grown exponentially since him and Matt had started talking about producing music videos together. At least one good thing had come out of that horrible night at the bar, that Harrison and Jackson were now permanently banned from. One thing that Matt had remembered the next day with absolute perfect clarity was them deciding to make art together, and for that Carson was grateful. 

His connections in Los Angeles were steadily growing, with help from Matt who seemed to have his fingers in a plethora of different pies. Carson had never considered himself exceptionally extroverted, but Matt was the polar opposite, always bringing up different friends and different parties. Carson liked to tag along for the ride. 

He and Matt got on surprisingly well, much to the chagrin of Jackson, whose obsession with him had only climbed in the past month. Jackson had taken a little of what Carson said to heart, at the very least he had stopped force-feeding Matt drinks. He now spent the majority of his time bidding for Matt’s approval rather than trying to give him alcohol poisoning, and for that Carson was grateful. 

It was August, and it was warm. Harrison had dragged Jackson along as a third wheel on a date with his new girlfriend, leaving Carson alone in the house again. He’d brought his paints and easel out to the backyard so he could create something in time with the sunset. 

“Hello?” Carson heard Matt’s voice booming from inside their house, and he grinned. 

“I’m outside!” He yelled back, still absorbed in his painting. The glass door leading to the backyard slid open, and Matt nearly tripped on a rock as he walked outside. Carson watched him skirt around it just in time, throwing his hands out comedically to balance himself. 

“Hey,” Carson said with a laugh. “You good?” Matt nodded, and grinned goofily at Carson. 

“I’m good. What’re you working on?” Matt asked, strolling over to Carson’s easel setup. 

“Just painting with the sunset.” Carson mumbled, stepping to the side so Matt could take a look at what he was working on. 

“Epic, man. Looks cool.” Matt stepped back and took a seat on a patio chair. “Where are your brothers?” 

“Oh, Harrison’s on a date and he dragged Jackson along with him. I think they’re going out or something, I dunno.” Carson mumbled. Matt hummed and looked up at the sky, clear of clouds. 

“Guess it’s just a boys night then, huh?” Matt asked, and Carson snorted. 

“Two-out-of-four boys night, sure.” 

“How much longer are you workin’ on that?” Matt asked, nodding at the easel. 

“Uhh,” Carson paused, looking at his art in contemplation. “I was just gonna work on it until the sun set, to be honest.” He replied. Matt instantly pulled out his phone, scrolling until he found what he was looking for. 

“So like an hour-ish? That’s what Google says.” 

“Yeah, I guess. Do you wanna do something? I’m not really in the mood to go out if I’m being honest.” Carson said, sticking his tongue out while carefully guiding his paintbrush across the canvas. 

“We can stay in, dude. We could order something, maybe. I don’t have like, any groceries and Harrison will literally murder me if I so much as touch his side of the fridge.” Matt said, chuckling.

“That’s definitely true.” Carson commented, thinking back to Harrison’s seven dollar carton of eggs. Carson watched Matt from the corner of his eye. He looked warm, and happy. Glowing, maybe. 

“How was work today, anyways?” Carson asked casually, watching Matt’s eyes shine and his smile light up, presumably at the thought. 

“It was really, really great, actually. Me and Ryan recorded a podcast and some Letsplays. We went on a Seven-Eleven run. Felt like old times.” Matt said wistfully.

“That’s nice, man.” Carson said, and he meant it. It was nice to see Matt smile. 

“Yeah…” Matt trailed off, lost in thought. He looked dreamily up at the sky, basking in the afterglow of the sunbeams dipping across the backyard. They guided Matt’s smile the same as they guided Carson’s brushstrokes, languidly and fluidly and happily. 

Matt was in a perfect mood, and Carson felt an idea prickling cruelly at the back of his brain. 

“Let’s go to the store,” Carson said, stalling his brush and pulling Matt out of his daydream. “Let’s get like, absinth. Or Everclear, I've never tried that.” Carson said, straightening his posture in an attempt to look more grown-up. 

“Why do you wanna try Everclear? That shit will blind you, man.” Matt said with a laugh. Carson stood his ground, and cleared his throat.

“I just think it would be fun, y’know. Just you and I getting drunk together. We can buy snacks and watch a movie or something. Play a drinking game.” Carson suggested casually. 

“It would be fun, man. Yeah, let’s do it. Do you really want Everclear though?” Matt asked, his voice pleading. Carson nodded. 

“I really do.” He lied. 

“Alright then,” Matt said with a sigh, standing from his chair. “I don’t think we even have any.” Matt headed back towards the sliding glass doors, managing to avoid the rock this time. 

“I’ll come in when the sun sets!” Carson called, turning back to his painting. 

The sky was turning a soft purple, but no matter how much Carson tried to mimic the color, it turned out darker on the canvas. 

Carson kept to his word and headed back inside once the sun was down, packing up his paint and setting his brushes in the kitchen sink to deal with later. Matt was waiting for him on the sofa, scrolling through his phone while Carson carried his wet canvas to his bedroom to dry. Carson grabbed a tote bag and threw in his wallet, and his keys before meeting Matt back in the living room.

“Where we going?” Carson asked with a grin. Matt stood from his spot on the couch and rolled his shoulders back to fix his posture. 

“I dunno. Probably a liquor store so I can buy you some Everclear, because they sure as shit don’t have that at Safeway. C’mon.” 

Carson followed Matt out of the house and down the front steps to his car, climbing into the passenger seat. 

“Fuck,” Matt said, once the car had revved to life. “I’m almost outta gas…” he trailed off. 

“Oh, shit.” Carson said, trying to ignore the voice of Harrison in his head, those words he’d heard the first night he landed in LA. 

“It’s okay. We’ll stop and get some, no worries,” Matt sighed. “Here. You play something.” Matt handed Carson the AUX cord and backed out of the driveway. 

Carson put on his music and rolled down the windows. It was dark, and the moon was hanging low in the sky, just having risen. They pulled into a gas station, and Carson went inside the little convenience store while Matt filled his tank. He bought some snacks, hoping it would ease the blow of the Everclear.

“Are there any places to get like, actual dinner near this damn liquor store?” Matt asked once Carson had settled back into the passenger seat. Carson shrugged. 

“I was just going to eat these snacks.” He admitted, opening his tote bag and revealing the wide variety of shitty gas station food he’d purchased. Matt snorted. 

“Honestly works for me. I’ll just UberEats some McDonald’s or something.” They pulled out of the gas station, and since traffic was light, Matt pushed it on the speed limit. The wind whipped past them, and Carson’s ears ached from the open windows, but he didn’t care. He welcomed the discomfort.

Carson sat in the car while Matt went to the liquor store, doing his best to seem aloof and legal. Not that it actually mattered, there were only three other cars in the parking lot. 

“They only had a fucking handle. Who the hell buys a handle of Everclear?” Matt complained once he was back in the car. He handed the large bottle to Carson, his skinny arms obviously struggling to carry it. Carson struggled too, and set it on the floor, cradling it between his feet. 

“What did you do today, dude?” Matt asked, once they were back on the highway and heading home. 

“I mostly just painted. I answered some emails too, I guess.” Carson said with a shrug, scrolling through their Spotify queue. 

“Music video stuff?” Matt asked, hopefully. 

“One of ‘em! Freddie seems really interested.” 

“I’d hope so, I’ve known that dude for ages.” 

“I’ve really been thinking about, like, shots and angles and lighting and stuff. We can make it look so good.” Carson gushed. They chatted more, and exchanged ideas until they got back home. They carried the handle of Everclear together, after both struggling to lift it on their own. 

“I’m still confused why you want this, honestly.” Matt groaned, once they’d set the handle on the kitchen table. 

“I told you, dude. First time for everything.” Carson lied. 

“I guess,” Matt shrugged. “Gimme those snacks, man.” Carson handed over his tote bag, and Matt carried it to the living room, plopping down on the sofa and turning on the TV.

“Whaddaya wanna watch?” Matt said, through a mouthful of potato chips. 

“Uhh, you can pick. Do we really not have any mixer?” Carson asked, peering into the near empty fridge. 

“I ‘unno. Text your selfish brother, maybe he’ll share with us.” 

“He’s not selfish!” Carson said defensively, blatantly ignoring the post-it note on the fridge which read ‘If you eat this you owe me $50’ over Harrison’s side of the fridge. 

**CARSON:** can i use some of your orange juice?  
 **HARRISON:** what for?  
 **CARSON:** mixer.   
**HARRISON:** venmo me. Or better, get Matt to venmo me. 

Carson scoffed, and stepped into the entryway to the living room. Matt looked at him suspiciously. 

“What?” 

“Harrison seriously wants one of us to venmo him to use his orange juice.” Matt rolled his eyes. 

“Seriously?” Carson nodded, and Matt sighed. 

“Fine, fine. I’m not drinking Everclear without a chaser. I’ll be dead within ten minutes.” Matt pulled out his phone, unhappy but willing. 

**HARRISON:** good. Drink responsibly, you two. 

Carson mixed the drinks. If he poured a little more into one glass it was definitely accidental. 

“What’re we watching?” Carson asked, handing Matt a glass. Carson sat down next to him and pulled his legs up against his chest. He held out his glass for a toast, and Matt smiled at him and clinked their glasses, taking a sip. 

“Oh god —” Matt spluttered, squinting. “You and Jackson both, heavy fuckin’ pours, my god.” Matt said with a wince, Carson laughed, his eyes beady and anxious.

“I swear, I think you Tuckers have it out for me sometimes.” Carson’s eyes nearly bugged out of his skull. 

“What! Not at all! I mean, Jackson practically worships the ground you walk on.” Carson pointed out, while Matt threw on some true crime documentary. 

“That’s true,” Matt mumbled. “But I mean, between him making me these crazy strong cocktails, and Harrison hounding me for every cent I own. I-it makes a guy wonder, you know?” 

Matt had always been poor at sarcasm, and Carson couldn’t tell whether or not he was making a joke, so he just laughed. 

“So, uh, are we playing a drinking game?” Carson asked, taking another measly sip of his drink. Matt followed his lead, despite his previous complaint. 

“One of my favorites is take a sip every time it’s mentioned a serial killer had a ‘difficult childhood’ or anything akin to that.” Matt mumbled, and Carson nodded in reply.

Carson felt tipsy after a couple episodes, his inhibitions loose and lowered. Matt was already slurring his words. 

Everclear was top tier. 

“Seriously — okay, this is actually so good, Carson...” Matt said, voice groggy and disjointed. 

“It is pretty good.” Carson nodded in agreement. 

“Like,” Matt hiccupped. “I’m a big lightweight. I c’n get drunk off like two shots, it was real good when I was your age. Didn’t have to spend a lot of money, y’know?” 

“That handle’s gonna last a long time, too.” Carson tacked on. He set his half finished drink down, ignoring the documentary still playing on the TV. Matt nodded. 

“It better… Do you know how much that thing fuckin’ cost? Fifty dollars, Carson.” Matt pressed his drink against his forehead, digging the cool glass into his temple. 

“Oh, shit… I ... I didn’t realize it would be…”

“That much?” Matt looked at him, pointedly. Carson nodded. A creeping sense of guilt washed over him as his subconscious intentions dawned on him. He hadn’t fully accepted them until just now. His curiosity always got the best of him.

“Yeah…” Carson trailed off. 

“Like I said earlier, you know. I’m just used to it at this point.” 

Carson left it there, and turned back to the documentary. He had stopped drinking, but Matt’s glass was almost empty. 

“Want me to make you another? Not as heavy this time, I promise.” Carson said. Matt nodded, focused intently on the TV. He shoved his glass in Carson’s direction. 

Feeling guilty, Carson stuck to his word and made sure Matt’s drink was tolerable, tasting it just to be sure. 

“Here you go, dude.” Carson handed Matt his glass. He settled in the armchair, Harrison’s chair, as it had been dubbed, and waited patiently, with bated breath. 

The shame of his actions barely registered anymore. Carson did feel guilty for betraying Matt’s trust, but he was mostly just curious. The past few interactions he’d had with a drunken Matt had led to astonishing revelations about his friends’ past, and Carson was itching for the full story. What had been so bad, so _deplorable_ that it made Matt switch names around.

“Carson this… this was a good idea,” Matt slurred, shooting a huge grin over at him. 

“Yeah? Good.” Carson replied with a soft smile. He felt like a wolf in sheep's clothing. 

“Soooo good, man. I was already in a good mood today. Such a good mood, you know.” Matt adjusted on the sofa. He finished the rest of his drink and then slammed the empty glass on the table.

“Will you make me another? Carson?” Matt asked. He sounded kind of pathetic, and Carson nodded weakly, standing up once more. 

“Actually — you know, let’s do a shot! Let’s do shots, Carson!” 

“Of Everclear?” Carson laughed. Matt nodded, enthusiastically, rocking back and forth in his seat on the couch.

“I thought you said that you’d go blind if you did that.” Carson knit his brows. 

“I was _kidding_ Carson! C’mon!” 

“Okay, okay.” Carson acquiesced. He wandered into the kitchen and grabbed some shot glasses, filling them halfway with water. There was no way either of them could do a full shot of Everclear, Carson didn’t actually want to get his stomach pumped.

“Y’know, the las’ time I drank Everclear was at a college party back in South Carolina. Jackson was with me too.” Matt slurred. Carson handed him the full shot, and they clinked glasses. 

The two boys downed the shots, and they were definitely tolerable with how much Carson had watered them down, even if they tasted like a cleaning product.

“I never got to go to any college parties.” Carson mumbled, thinking out loud. 

“Oh dude! I mean, I only got to go to a few, since I dropped out ‘n all,” Matt explained. He patted the seat on the couch next to him, urging Carson to take a seat. Carson was happy to oblige Matt’s request, and plopped down next to him. Matt reached for Carson’s unfinished drink, sitting on the coffee table.

“D’you wanna finish this?” Matt asked. Carson shook his head. 

“I dunno, I liked all the ones I went to. I was a freshman, I was free from home, I was like… I was like, _allowed_ to be slutty.” Matt chuckled. Carson grinned, resting his head in his hand and propping himself up against the top of the sofa, listening intently. 

“I still haven’t had a slut phase.” Carson commented, smirking. He said it to make Matt smile, and it worked. Matt let out a shrill laugh, that pierced Carson’s ear drums and bounced off the walls maniacally.

“You should think about it, dude. It’s real fun. I’m all tied down now, you know,” Matt said, dreamily. He stared at the TV, eyes overcast.

“Really? Are you and Ryan like, official?” Carson asked, leaning forward. 

“Ehh,” Matt made a shaking motion with his hand. “I mean, no. But I’m not fucking anyone else, and I don’t think _he’s_ fucking anyone else. He better not be, I mean,” Matt stopped himself, and eyed Carson suspiciously. 

“Not gonna be a prude, right bro?” Matt asked, narrowing his eyes. Carson laughed and shook his head. 

“Nah, man.”

“Okay. Was _gonna_ say that he better not be, because we haven’t been using condoms for like, two weeks now, and if he gives me something I’ll be majorly fuckin’ pissed.” Carson barked out a laugh, and doubled over on himself. It wasn’t that funny, but he wanted Matt to keep talking. 

Matt took another sip of his drink, still focused intensely on the screen. 

“How’s your love life, anyway?” Matt asked, changing the subject.

“Pretty much nonexistent,” Carson shrugged. He was completely uninterested in talking about himself, and his lack of action at the moment. The whirlwind that had become his life the past several months had really taken its toll on his libido anyways. “Not really interested in dating right now. How long have… how long have you and Ryan been like… I mean, not _together_ I guess, but…” 

“I know what you mean,” Matt mumbled, he took another gulp of the drink he’d stolen from Carson. “Uhm. It’s complicated.” Matt chuckled, twirling the glass in his hand. He watched a whirlpool form in the center of his drink, like looking into the eye of a storm.

“I mean, forever?” Matt chuckled. “I dunno. I uh —” Matt paused, and then threw the rest of his drink back. Carson waited. 

“We started fooling around when we started living together, so 2015? But we were never serious and still dated other people.” Matt leaned back into the sofa, and finally looked over at Carson who was still listening intently. 

“I dunno, man. End of 2015 was a really hard time. We went back home for a couple months, y’know? For the funeral and to be with family. Ryan was —” Matt choked on his words. Carson reached out and patted him awkwardly on the knee. Matt took a deep breath, and continued. 

“People say that like… tragedy shifts your reality, and it’s true. It is so damn true, god.” Matt said quietly. 

“I need another drink,” Matt said, getting up himself this time. “D’you want one?” He asked, stumbling into the kitchen.

“Sure.” Carson called out to him. Carson noticed Matt’s phone out of the corner of his eye, sitting facedown on the sofa. He paused, his eyes darting to the kitchen where Matt had busied himself making drinks for the two of them. Carson reached over carefully and picked it up, eyes shifting between Matt’s phone, and the entryway. 

He opened Matt’s phone, remembering the passcode Jackson told him from that night at the bar. Seven Nine Two Six, R-Y-A-N. Once he was in, his thumb hovered over Matt’s messages. There was no going back after this. It was a complete breach of trust, something he wasn’t sure Matt would forgive him for if he found out, but Carson was _so_ desperately curious. He had to see. 

He opened Matt’s messages and didn’t have to scroll for Ryan’s contact, it was right at the top. Carson remembered Jackson had described their conversations as ‘boring’ and… well, he wasn’t wrong. It was mostly just photos of Banana, and Ryan’s dog getting sent back and forth. Along with the pet photos there was the occasional sparse conversation that went like:

**RYAN:** Wanna get lunch?  
 **MATT:** sure, where?

And 

**MATT:** can i come over?  
 **RYAN:** Of course.   
**MATT:** cool omw

Or 

**RYAN:** I won’t be in for another hour.   
MATT: no worries, dude.

All in all it was very… bland. It was consistent, they texted every day, but it was nothing to write home about. Carson narrowed his brows, and looked up towards the entryway. Matt was still puttering around in the kitchen, so Carson decided to dig deeper. 

He closed Matt’s messages, and on his cluttered home screen, found his Snapchat. Carson _knew_ Matt used Snapchat regularly, his story was being updated constantly. Just like his messages, Ryan was at the very top, with a streak of one hundred and fifty four. Carson swiped left on his name, and almost instantly regretted it. 

The first thing he saw in Matt and Ryan’s Snapchat dms was Ryan’s (presumably, since Carson knew what Matt’s bed sheets looked like) dick. Carson blushed profusely and swiped away, embarrassed and ashamed of his snooping. He hardly knew Ryan, sure he’d met him and they’d hung out but the two of them weren’t close. Carson covered the top half of Matt’s phone screen and swiped back.

**MATT:** epic 🤤  
 **RYAN:** Woke up horny as fuck.   
**MATT:** hope that means what i think it means

The messages were timestamped from this morning. Maybe Jackson had never looked through Matt’s Snaps, because this was anything but boring. Or maybe he had and felt the same guilt Carson currently felt. 

He probably hadn’t. 

Carson closed the app completely and threw Matt’s phone down on the sofa, just in time for Matt to walk back into the room, holding two drinks in hand. 

“Here you go, dude.” Matt held out a glass for him before picking up his phone from where Carson had tossed it, and taking a seat. Carson accepted the drink quickly, and immediately took a sip, hoping the alcohol would be a decent enough cover up for his bright red cheeks. 

“So, uh, what were you saying?” Carson asked, coughing from the strength of his cocktail. 

“Tragedy. What sucks is like, I didn’t really know Ryan well _before,_ you know? But I know the after like the back of my hand,” Matt took a drink.

“Right,” Carson said, nodding along. “I’m so sorry, by the way. I really can’t even imagine what that must have been like.” Carson supplied. Matt just shrugged, brushing off any sympathy that Carson had offered.

“Thank’s, Carson. I’ve... I’ve been through a lot. You know,” Matt drank. “The only time my life has been stable and normal and healthy, was when I was living with Ryan, and just Ryan. Not when I was living with Mark, not right now,” Matt grimaced, and held his head in his hand. “Not even when I was a kid.” Matt paused, his head in his hands. The documentary played quietly in the background and Matt turned to watch it, lost in his own head. Carson observed him quietly.

“More than anything though, I am so, so glad that I’m far away from South Carolina.” It was said in a whisper, melancholy and sad and it sent a tingle through Carson’s head. He gulped, and watched Matt through narrowed eyes. 

“Let’s sit outside,” Matt said, jumping out of his seat. “I wanna be outside right now.” Matt didn’t even give Carson a chance to reply, simply turned to walk towards the sliding glass door and pulled it open, strolling out into the backyard. He tripped on the rock he’d missed earlier that afternoon. 

“You okay?” Carson called out, watching Matt’s lanky body tumble down on the stone paving. Matt sat up and giggled. 

“I’m fine, don’t worry…” He stood up and brushed himself off before flashing Carson a thumbs up.

Carson followed him, grabbing the large handle of alcohol off the kitchen table and bringing it with him. It was significantly lighter now, and Carson didn’t really want to deal with what that actually meant for the pair of them.

They sat on the uncomfortable patio chairs that they had never bothered replacing. Matt pointed up at the night sky and pointed out Orion’s Belt hanging overhead, tracing the dots with the tip of his finger.

They laughed, and talked, and drank. And drank. Matt wasn’t the only one drunk and babbling by the end of the night.

“I lost my entire sex drive when I moved to LA,” Carson admitted to Matt, laughing at the ridiculousness of his statement. “By all means I should be having, what, a slut phase? Is that what you said?” Matt’s face was cast in shadows but Carson could make out a faint grin painting his lips.

“The slut phase is an important part of every young boy's life, my friend,” Matt slurred. He was cradling the alcohol to his chest, the amount of which had been consumed should probably worry him, but Carson ignored it.

“When did you have one then, huh?” Carson asked playfully.

“Senior year of highschool, and my freshman year of college.” Matt said. He was matter-of-fact, even through his drunkenness. “In high school I fucked girls but — but, in college once I left home? Guys all the way baby.” Matt giggled. Carson grinned.

“Hey, live your truth, dude.” He said, holding up his empty glass to Matt. Matt held up the handle he’d been nursing and took a sip.

“I fuckin’ did, Carson. I — I really should have paid better attention in my classes, but it was just, it was so freeing, right? You know when you leave home and can finally just be yourself?” Carson couldn’t reply, because he didn’t share that feeling. He nodded anyways and waited for Matt to continue. “Never fucked your brother though.” Matt giggled. Carson rolled his eyes playfully.

“Oh, well good,” Carson said with a snort. “Neither?”

“Neither. And I don’t plan on fucking either of them.” Matt stated, his expression dulled at the thought. Matt brought the handle back up to his lips.

“Hey, man, don’t you think you’ve had enough?” Carson asked with a laugh, but Matt just rolled his eyes. 

“Never enough, Carson. Never enough.” Matt took a swig, let out a sharp ‘Ah!’ and shook his head as he swallowed.

“C’rson, C’rson,” Matt said, slurring his words. “I hope you have a good time in LA, I really do. You know, I mean, you know my LA starter story.” Matt laughed. Carson laughed with him, even though it felt awkward and forced.

“I do.”

“Y’don’t even know the half of it, C’rson.” Matt took another drink, and then stood up rather haphazardly. He stumbled and caught himself, and Carson rose to help him, grabbing his shoulders to tether him to the Earth.

“Maybe we should go to bed, dude.” Carson mumbled. He grabbed the handle of Everclear and took it away from Matt, who whined but let it be plucked from his hands. 

“Will you lay with me, Carson? I just wanna, I can’t go to Ryan’s like this and I… I really want to cuddle.” Matt murmured. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll lay with you. Let’s go inside.” Carson was drunk too, albeit a lot better off than Matt was. He led them slowly back into the house and closed the sliding doors. 

“Go to your room, I’ll, uh, I’ll tidy up and be there in a second.” Matt nodded, and dragged his hand along the wall to guide the way for himself to his bedroom. 

Carson put away Harrison’s juice, and left the glasses in the sink, right next to his paint brushes from earlier in the day. He hid the Everclear where he knew Jackson couldn’t find it, under the sink behind the cleaning supplies. He turned off the lights in the living room, and the TV which they had left on when they went outside. The house was dark and quiet with no one else at home. Jackson and Harrison still hadn’t returned, and Carson found himself very grateful that Matt would be asleep when they did come back. 

He changed into pajamas and wandered into the bathroom where he found Matt, standing in front of the sink and brushing his teeth. 

“Ey C’rsn,” Matt said through a mouthful of toothpaste. He spat into the sink and moved over to make room. Carson splashed some cold water on his face before grabbing his toothbrush as well. 

“Y’know,” Matt said, after spitting into the sink. “This is, like, the fourth toothbrush I’ve had since you moved in.”

“What?” Carson asked, perplexed. Matt nodded. 

“I keep losing them. I ‘unno where they end up.” Carson narrowed his eyes. 

“That’s weird…” Carson said, his mind whirring. Matt just shrugged. 

The bathroom was small, but they worked around each other. Matt left first, and Carson soon after, making his way to Matt’s bedroom instead of his own. 

Banana greeted him at the door, as he so often did when anyone entered Matt’s room. The light was off and Matt was laying on his bed, his eyes already shut. 

“Are you sleepin’ already?” Carson asked, and Matt made a noncommittal grunting sound, as though to say ‘not yet.’ Carson scooped Banana up from the floor and carried him over to Matt’s bed, settling down and placing Banana between them.

“Is he protecting me from you?” Matt asked, reaching up to pet his cat, listening to his happy purrs. 

“No!” Carson said with a laugh. “I mean, you’re his dad, maybe you’re protecting him.” 

“Yeah.” Matt’s voice cracked. 

“Dads are supposed to protect you.” Matt repeated back. Carson stared at him through the darkness, waiting for something else.

“I’ll protect you, little man.” Matt chuckled, scratching behind Banana’s ears. He scooped his cat up to place him on his chest.

“‘M gonna sleep now, Carson.” Matt said quietly. His glasses were still on, and Carson reached out to pluck them from his face. He set them on the nightstand. 

“Do you still wanna cuddle?” Carson asked, but Matt shook his head. 

“Nah, I got Banana. You can sleep in here if you want though.” Matt said. Carson nodded. 

He waited for Matt to fall asleep before sneaking back to his own room. He lay awake, long enough that he heard his brothers come home, long enough that the moon shone directly into his window, long enough that he knew he should be asleep by now, should stop thinking so hard and stop feeling sorry for himself, for all the knowledge he’d accumulated. 

He was helping after all. He wasn’t like his brothers. He was a good friend.


	7. CHAPTER SEVEN

Things got weird in September. 

That was to say, things got _weirder_ in September. Carson had been busy trying to find galleries where he could showcase his paintings and photography, and he’d been wrapped up with Matt in talks of starting their own music video production company, since they both loved music and videography so much.

At the beginning of the month, Matt had gone to Australia with Ryan for a little over a week, and Carson hardly heard from him at all throughout the entire duration of the trip, apart from a Snapchat when they landed, and one when they were on their way back.

Matt got home in the evening, and he was tired and jetlagged from his flight. The first thing he did when he walked through the front door was scoop up Banana, who had naturally run to the door immediately when he heard Matt enter. 

“How was your trip, dude?” Carson asked, pulling Matt into a hug. “We hardly heard from you.” 

“Yeah, sorry about that.” Matt said, wandering over to the sofa to take a seat, lifting his legs up to rest on the coffee table. “It was really, really fucking fun, Carson. You’d love it, I bet.” Matt said, with a tired smile.

“Look who’s back,” came Harrison’s voice wandering in from the hallway. “The boy himself. How were the Aussies?”

“Hey, Harry,” Matt mumbled. “They were good. It was nice to see them again, I hadn’t seen Max since like… 2016? Although they did get me monumentally wasted for their damn podcast.” Matt groused. Carson laughed, but Matt stayed stoic. 

“Nothing you aren’t used to, right?” Harrison laughed, as Jackson finally strolled in to meet them all in the living room. Matt scowled at Harrison, and Carson felt the eerily familiar tension seep throughout the room. 

“So, did you really fuck Chad?” Harrison asked, settling in his armchair. Jackson glared at his brother, and Carson coughed uncomfortably, his gaze drifting between the three of them. 

“Of course he didn’t fuck Chad!” Jackson said immediately, jumping to Matt’s defense. Matt didn’t say anything. He sighed softly, and kept scratching behind Banana’s ears.

“I mean, Chad put it on his Instagram story.” Harrison said with a shrug. 

“Matt, tell him you didn’t sleep with Chad.” Jackson said, pleadingly. Matt looked up at him, expression completely blank.

“Actually, that’s the whole reason they flew me and Ryan out in the first place.” Matt said casually. “Because Chad wanted to put his tiny dick in my ass.” 

“So it’s small?” Harrison asked. 

“Microscopic.” Matt mumbled. He stood up from the couch, letting Banana jump from his lap and land on the floor. “I’m going to sleep now, boys. I’ll see you guys later.” Matt grabbed his suitcase and made his way down the hallway. 

“Wait!” Carson called after him, fast walking down the hallway.

“Yeah, Carson?” Matt asked with a sigh. His eyes looked dead, and tired. His usual chipper and personable demeanor was replaced with apathy. Carson stopped short, and gulped. 

“Uhm, were you being serious?” Carson asked, his mind drawing a blank at why he’d actually run after Matt, and just spewing the first thing that came to mind. Matt blinked at him slowly, not saying a word. 

“Oh that was a joke, right. Of course. Sorry man.”

“It’s whatever.” Matt sighed, “I really am tired though, so I’ll talk to ya later.” Matt offered Carson a weak smile, and disappeared into his room. 

Carson had thought that ‘later’ meant the next day, or a couple days later once Matt wasn’t jetlagged, but it had been two weeks and later still hadn’t happened. If Matt wasn’t at work, or at Ryan’s, he was holed up in his room.

Carson hardly ever saw him anymore, apart from when they passed each other in the kitchen or hallway. He didn’t want to intrude, especially not when Matt was making it so obvious that he wanted to be given space and left alone. Carson missed him. 

Work on their production company slowed to a snail's pace, with Matt spending the majority of his time on SuperMega and Carson focusing his efforts on his own art. Which was fine with him, they could work separately and come together later, although Carson was starting to speculate on Matt’s actual mental well-being. 

“Don’t you think we should like, check on him?” Carson asked pathetically, trying to persuade his brothers that Matt was clearly downtrodden. Harrison rolled his eyes and shook his head. 

“He’s just working on his music stuff, right?” Harrison mumbled, disinterested. 

“He’s been fine at work,” Jackson said with a shrug. “He’s just been doing a lot. Don’t freak out about him, man.” Carson left the room defeated, and pretended he didn’t hear Jackson and Harrison talking behind his back. 

Life continued, regardless, although everything felt like it was moving alarmingly slow without Matt wandering around the apartment. He was sitting with his brothers one evening, watching TV, Matt isolating himself after getting home later than normal, when Harrison suggested:

“Do you guys wanna go on a Seven-Eleven run?” 

“Ooh, yeah!” Jackson replied. “Let’s get Matt to join us, he loves Seven-Eleven. Maybe that's enough for him to emerge from his chrysalis. I think today was kinda rough for him from what I saw at work.” 

“Why don’t you go ask him, Carson?” Harrison nodded towards the hallway. 

Carson even hadn’t agreed to go with them. In fact, he would have preferred to stay home by himself and maybe try to talk with Matt alone, but he walked down the hallway to ask Matt, because Harrison had asked him to. 

Carson knocked quietly on the door, to no response. He almost turned back, almost retreated to the living room to tell Jackson and Harrison that Matt didn’t want to come, but the door opened, suddenly. 

Carson blinked at Matt, taking him in. His eyes were red rimmed and puffy, clearly irritated. He was still wearing street clothes, and the state of his hair made it seem like he’d just woken up from an unsatisfying nap. 

“What’s up, Carson?” Matt mumbled, rubbing his eyes. 

“Hey,” Carson said, brightly, in an attempt to drown out the misery that seeped out of Matt’s bedroom. “Uhm, we were gonna do a Seven-Eleven run and Harrison wanted me to ask you to come.” 

“Oh.” Matt said, straightening up. He ran his hands through his hair and turned to look back into his bedroom. 

“And I want you to come!” Carson tacked on, hopeful that his appeal would make Matt come out of hiding. “I — I really miss you, man.” Carson whispered, just in case his brothers were listening in. 

Matt turned back, and offered Carson a weak, shaky smile.

“I miss you too, Carson. I’m sorry I’ve just been, like, really in my feelings recently, I guess.” Matt offered softly. 

“That’s okay, Matt.” They didn’t say anything for a moment, Matt had looked away from Carson, was shuffling his feet and staring at the floor. Carson waited, although Matt didn’t speak up again. 

“So, uh,” Carson stammered awkwardly. “Do you wanna come?” Matt hummed, and looked up from the floor. 

“Yeah, I’ll come. Just let me put some different clothes on.” 

“Okay!” Carson said, excited. Matt turned, and closed his door, shutting Carson out. 

Carson retreated back to the living room. Harrison was throwing on one of his leather jackets, and raised an eyebrow at Carson. 

“Well?” He asked, suspiciously. 

“Yeah, he’ll come. He’s just putting different clothes on.” Carson grabbed his own jacket as well, the one Harrison had stolen from the staff room a few months prior. 

“Did you ask if he’d drive?” Harrison cocked his head, and looked over at Jackson. 

“Uh, no?” Carson said while patting his pockets to make sure he had his wallet. 

“I told you to ask him, man.” Harrison rolled his eyes. Carson furrowed his brow. 

“Yeah, he totally did.” Jackson added with a laugh. 

“Oh. Well, sorry. I guess.” Carson mumbled. 

“Hey fellas.” Matt said, emerging from the hallway. 

“Hey. You look like shit.” Harrison said, pulling Matt into a one-armed hug and clapping him on the back. 

“Thank you, Harry. It’s been a long day.” Matt sighed. “Y’all ready?” Jackson nodded, standing up from his seat on the couch. Harrison looked over at Carson pointedly, and Carson blinked at him, confused. 

“Oh,” Carson said, blushing. “Can you drive, Matt?” Carson mumbled out the question. He felt embarrassed, but it got Harrison to stop staring at him. Matt sighed, and scratched his head. 

“Uh, do I have to? I’m really worn out.” Matt mumbled. 

“My cars outta gas.” Harrison said. Jackson didn’t supply a response, and Carson felt awkward offering since he had been the one to ask Matt in the first place. 

“Fine. Yeah, we can take my car. But one of you better buy me a Slurpee.” Matt grumbled, grabbing his oversized windbreaker and tossing it on. 

Carson sheepishly followed Matt and his brothers out the front door. He often found himself trailing last behind everyone, always more eager to observe and follow than take any kind of lead. Harrison took shotgun, and Carson and Jackson sat in the back seat. All four of the boys were tall, and could never find a way to give an equal amount of legroom. Jackson swung his legs up on the seat and laid them over Carson’s lap, much to Harrison’s amusement. 

Matt handed Harrison the AUX this time, and rolled down all the windows before pulling out of the driveway. 

The drive was actually… nice. It was normal. It reminded Carson of days when he was a freshman in highschool and Jackson was a senior. Whenever Harrison was home and available he’d pick them up and the three of them would drive all around Charleston, get fast food, smoke in the woods. Carson was positive if they had known Matt back then, he would have joined them too. Maybe if they had known Matt back then, he wouldn’t get stepped all over. 

Carson blinked that thought away. 

Seven-Eleven was only about a ten minute drive from their house, however, and the idyllic, indie movie, open road daydream was knocked aside once Matt had pulled into the parking lot. 

Carson shoved Jackon’s legs off of him and hastily exited the car, ignoring his brother’s laughter and brushing off his thighs, as though scraping off an invisible film left behind by Jackson’s limbs. 

“Carson, hold my hand!” Matt said, reaching out to him and wiggling his fingers. Carson smirked at him, and grabbed it, squeezing tightly. Matt seemed to be in a better mood, more chipper and lively than he was when Carson had knocked on his bedroom door, perhaps all he needed was a nice drive and good music. 

“So who’s getting me an Icee?” Matt asked playfully, turning to look at the rest of them. 

“I will.” Carson replied immediately. 

In the store, Jackson immediately went to the display of wraparound sunglasses and busied himself trying to find the ugliest pair. Carson let Matt pull him around the store, and Harrison followed behind them, his hands stuck in his pockets. 

“Do you want one too, Carson?” Matt asked, letting go of Carson’s hand to grab a large plastic cup, setting it under the nozzle of the Icee machine. 

“Uh, nah. I’m gonna grab a soda or something.” Carson said with a shrug, wandering over to the fridges lining the back wall and scanning their contents. He ended up just grabbing an Arizona, and when he turned back around to Matt, he was greeted with the sight of Harrison, slipping something into the pocket of Matt’s windbreaker. Harrison turned to Carson and brought a finger up to his lips, winking at Carson. 

Carson spluttered, but closed his mouth quickly when Harrison emphasized the shushing motion. Carson tried to convey with only his eyes that he was heavily questioning his older brother. Harrison completely ignored him, and slipped something else into Matt’s pocket. 

“Matt —” Carson started, and he turned his head. 

“Dude, are you sure you don’t want one?” Matt asked, grabbing a straw and pulling off the plastic wrap around it and shoving it haphazardly into his drink, taking a large sip. 

“No, I ... I’m good,” Carson said, eyes flickering to Matt’s pockets as though trying to convey without words for Matt to check them, but Matt wasn’t looking at him, just continued sipping his beverage. He held out his hand again, wiggling his fingers in the same manner to get Carson to take hold of it again. 

“C’mon dude, don’t leave me hangin’.” Matt chuckled. Carson shakily held his hand out and grabbed Matt’s. He felt sick as he watched Harrison grab more small items from off the shelf and sneak behind the pair of them to place them in Matt’s pockets. 

Carson had to watch his brother through gritted teeth, too scared to say anything to him without drawing attention to the three of them. Jackson met up with them again, carrying his sunglasses and a couple trashy magazines. 

“Why, Jackson?” Matt asked with a laugh, nodding at the magazines. He shrugged, and flipped one open to browse while they kept walking through the store. 

“Ryan and I used to go on Seven-Eleven runs like, almost nightly when we lived together.” Matt said, mostly just to Carson, since he turned his head to look at him. 

“Aww, really?” Carson replied, trying to sound organic. 

“Yeah. He liked getting wings and I usually got candy. In fact,” Matt led them down to the candy aisle and picked out some snacks. 

“I’ll get you those too.” Carson mumbled, mostly because he felt bad for not saying anything about Harrison using Matt’s jacket as his personal shopping basket. 

“Sugar daddy Carson, huh?” Matt snickered. “In that case, buy me a White Claw too.” 

“Baby bro can’t do that yet.” Harrison laughed, ruffling Carson’s hair. Carson grabbed his wrist and pushed it away, glowering at his brother. 

“Jeeze, what’s your problem Carson?” Harrison snorted. 

“What’s _my_ problem?!” Carson squeaked, he squinted at his brother incredulously, his heart racing in his chest.

“Yeah, why aren’t you twenty-one yet, Carson? Not epic.” Matt snickered, oblivious. Carson grit his teeth. He withdrew his hand from Matt and walked away, frustrated. 

“Where’re you going, dude?” Matt asked, concerned.

“Sorry, just need to get some air.” He mumbled.

“What about my candy, man?” Matt asked him, but Carson just mumbled something about paying him back in reply. 

Carson paid for his drink with the two crumpled up singles in his pocket, cracking it open and taking a sip. 

He pushed on the glass door to leave the building, only afterwards realizing there was a large sticker on glass, directly in front of him that read ‘PULL’ in huge orange letters. He mentally smacked himself, before pulling the doors open and stepping out into the warm September air.

Carson let out a deep breath, and leaned against the side of the building, propping his foot against the wall at an angle. He sipped his drink and looked at the sky. The sun was just dipping below the horizon, and the orange glow faded into a delicate purple. It had always been easy for Carson to lose himself in colors, to try and imagine how he would mix them in real life to match. He pulled out his phone and opened the camera, zooming in to the mix of color hanging in the sky to snap a quick picture. 

A soft breeze blew past him and Carson shivered. A familiar tingle in the back of his mind threatened to overpower all concurrent thoughts, a gnawing feeling that he shouldn’t have come outside, should have done this entire evening differently. 

He wanted to be a good brother. 

He wanted to be a good friend. 

The two didn’t seem to come hand in hand. 

There was a commotion at the glass doors, and Harrison and Jackson stumbled out, red in the face and wheezing. Carson straightened up from where he was leaning against the building. 

“Wh—” He started, but Matt soon stumbled out of the building as well. His Icee gone, and his face contorted in an ugly rage. 

“What the actual FUCK is _WRONG_ with you, Harrison?” Matt screamed. A group of young teens passing by on the sidewalk stopped and snickered, and Carson went red in the face. 

“Chill out, dude. There are other Seven-Eleven’s in the city.” Harrison said. 

“That’s — that’s so far from the fucking point it’s laughable.” Matt said, and he did laugh, he ran his fingers through his hair manically, tugging on the roots. 

“Why are you assuming it was me anyway, Carson was next to you the whole time.” Harrison said smoothly while he folded his arms across his chest. Carson spluttered at the accusation, his heart speeding up in panic as his brother tossed the blame towards him.

“Carson wouldn’t do that shit, right Carson?” Matt turned to face him, and his brothers looked his way as well. 

“No, I. O-of course I wouldn’t.” Carson stammered. He knew he didn’t sound very convincing. 

“You didn’t stop me though.” Harrison shrugged at Carson’s statement, and Carson went white as he saw the realization dawn on Matt’s face. 

Panic settled heavily over Carson, fogging over his vision and turning his brain to soup. He watched on with anxiety as Matt flitted his head between the three brothers, like he was watching a bizarre game of tennis.

“What are you doing, dude.” Jackson whispered harshly, elbowing Harrison in the ribs. 

“I just wanted free snacks!” Harrison said, annoyed. “It’s Matt’s fucking fault anyways, he had to fucking trip and let all my hard work go to waste.” 

“Hard work?!” Matt yelled. They had attracted a group of onlookers who were eagerly watching the shouting match take place. “Is shoplifting hard work now?! I’m sorry, Harrison, why can’t you focus your ‘hard work’ on your actual job? Maybe if you got a promotion you could actually afford to pay rent every month.” Matt spat out. His fists were balled in anger, and his face a shade of cherry red. Carson could have sworn he saw steam coming from Matt’s ears. 

“I wouldn’t have tripped, anyways, if you,” Matt pointed a finger at Jackson. “Hadn’t grabbed my fucking ass.”

“Ryan grabs your ass all the time!” Jackson shot back, defensively. Matt scoffed. 

“Ryan’s also the one who _fucks me_. You don’t, Jackson.” Matt said, his voice lowered so only the three of them could hear it. 

“And you,” Matt turned, looking directly at Carson. He sounded lost, and sad. It was the kind of voice you hear a parent use when they tell their child that a pet died, or the voice of a doctor delivering bad news. 

Carson’s heart beat so hard he thought it was going to explode from his chest. It would cover the parking lot in blood and viscera while the organ continued its electric pace outside his body. At least he wouldn’t feel anything if that happened. It would be better than how he felt now. 

“You just left.” 

Carson felt dizzy and short of breath, he grabbed his head, covered his ears and squatted down on the concrete. Dread and anxiety filled him completely, and he felt rotten to the core. He felt like a tumor, benign and heavy and sucking the life from his own unyielding form. He thought he heard someone say his name, but he squeezed his eyes shut while hands grabbed him by the shoulders. 

“It’s my fault, it’s my fault,” He murmured over and over. Tears started streaming down his face as he was manhandled to his feet, 

“Enjoying the show, assholes?” Carson heard someone yell. He thought it was Harrison, but his hearing was still muffled by his own hands. 

“Carson, Carson. Look at me.” He could tell it was Matt, holding him by the shoulders and standing directly in his personal space. Carson desperately didn’t want to open his eyes, in fear of more tears leaking out of him.

“M-Matt I-I’m s-so s-s-sorry.” Carson hiccuped. His voice was shaky and every syllable tore out of him like he was speaking through a mouthful of nails. 

“Come on, let’s get you to the car. Can you walk?” Carson stammered in response, and took a shaky step forward. He clung to Matt’s shoulders, and he helped guide Carson back to the car. He heard the sound of a door being opened, and then Matt was guiding him into the passenger seat. 

“Just hang out here for a bit, okay? Fuck, I wish I had some water.” Carson drew his legs up to his chest and pressed his forehead against his knees.

“Just try to even your breathing, okay? I’ll bring you back home.” Matt muttered, and he closed the car door as gently as possible. 

It had been a while since Carson had a panic attack. The last one he remembered being this visceral and debilitating happened years ago, and he tried to rack his traumatized mind to think of ways to calm himself down. 

Carson took deep breaths in an attempt to steady his heart beat. They were ragged and shaky, crying had tired his body out tremendously, but he kept going until he was able to open his eyes. His tears had dried against his cheeks and as he lifted his face forward, out of the warm cocoon he’d made of himself, he instantly felt cold and sad. He wanted to curl up on himself again, but he powered through and pulled up his t-shirt with shaky hands and used it to wipe his face. 

His hearing was coming back again, and he could hear arguing outside the car so he covered his ears, wanting to remain oblivious to the conversation. The back door of the car opened, and Carson wanted to run and hide. He didn’t want his brothers to see him like this. 

The front door opened too, and Matt clambered inside as well. He reached out to gingerly touch Carson’s shoulder. 

“I’m gonna take you home, Carson? I’ll help you up to your bedroom and then I’m going to Ryan’s. Okay?” Matt asked, and Carson nodded back shakily in reply. 

“Okay.” 

Carson heard the engine, and felt the car lurch to life. He shakily reached to roll down the window, and once it was all the way down he stuck his head out of it. He opened his eyes, finally, and was greeted by the night sky and cars passing by them on the busy streets. Matt turned onto the highway, and Carson delighted at the painful noise in his ears. He knew Harrison hated having the windows down on the highway, but he didn’t care. Harrison was part of the reason he felt how he did right now. 

The drive must have been silent, because all Carson could hear was the roar of the wind in his ears. No music, no discussion, no nothing. Just the wind, and the air that he breathed. He filled his nostrils with putrid and toxic Los Angeles air and hoped everything would be okay. 

Matt pulled into the driveway to their house, and he must have pushed it on the gas a little bit, because it definitely didn’t take as long as the drive there. 

“Are you feeling any better?” Matt asked softly. 

“Yeah.” Carson replied, his voice still hoarse from crying. Matt nodded. 

“I’ll still help you inside.” 

Matt stuck by his word and held Carson’s arm as he guided the pair of them back into the house. Harrison and Jacckson trailed behind them, but stayed at the doorway, not following any further. 

“Okay,” Matt said, once he’d brought Carson into his bedroom. They both sat on the bed. “I have to go now.” Carson nodded in understanding. 

“I’m sorry, Matt.” Carson whispered. Matt sighed. 

“Tell me later, Carson. I really… I’ve really just had enough for one day.” Carson gulped, and watched in misery as Matt padded out of his bedroom. Before the door closed however, Banana skittered into Carson’s room. 

“You want in, buddy?” Matt mumbled, watching as his cat jumped up onto Carson’s bed and butted his head into his thigh. 

“That cool, man?” Matt asked quietly, and Carson nodded, scooping Banana up before he laid down and placed the cat on his chest, scratching behind his ears. 

“Cool. I’ll talk to you later, Carson.” 

Banana was a sweet cat, and Carson instantly felt better, more calm. It was interrupted however, once the front door closed and it was just his brothers outside. 

“What the fuck is your problem, Harrison?” Carson heard Jackson yell.

“What’s my problem? What’s wrong with you? It’s your fucking fault Matt got caught at all. Why do you insist on fucking sexually assaulting him at every chance you get?” 

Carson sighed deeply, and tried to ignore everything. 

“I’m not assaulting him! He does that shit with everyone, it’s cool!” 

“He does that shit with his _boyfriend_ you fucking cuck.”

“Matt and Ryan aren’t dating! I’ve said this so many times before, they’re just friends!” 

There was a pause in arguments, and Carson prayed that it was the end, that he wouldn’t have to listen to them yell at each other any more and he could ride out the end of his panic attack in peace.

“You’re delusional, Jackson.” Harrison snarled.

“You’re cruel, Harrison.” Jackson bit back.

“I’m leaving. Fuck this, and fuck you. Let me know when you have your own brother’s fucking back again, okay?” It was Harrison’s voice, and Carson heard a door slam and then nothing.


	8. CHAPTER EIGHT

Carson slept poorly. 

The waves of anxiety from his panic attack earlier in the evening were still wracking his body and psyche. The house was entirely too quiet, with only him and Jackson, who Carson hadn’t heard from since Harrison had stormed out. 

The fighting between his brothers wasn’t new to Carson in any way. Jackson and Harrison had been butting heads since the three of them were young, and Carson had always struggled trying to get them to come together. 

They eventually settled on some kind of code of conduct that the two of them operated on, and that they had roped Carson into as well. Stick by each other’s sides no matter what. 

It was a lofty promise that the two of them often struggled with, since their brands of torment were decidedly different. Carson always laid low when the two of them were having a moment. 

His lack of a backbone was weighing on him. He knew he had to accept his cowardice, especially after his performance in the parking lot. Panic attack induced by a fight he could have easily prevented. As he lay in bed, his mind raced with all the other times, every scenario where he could have done something, said something to put an end to his brothers’ incessant torment of Matt. Of him. 

He woke up late the next morning, and only barely managed to bring himself out of bed. He twisted his torso to the side, cracking his back and groaning out loud. 

“C’mon, Banana, let’s get you some breakfast.” Carson mumbled, looking over at the cat that was currently sitting politely on his bed. He shuffled to his bedroom door and gulped before he opened it and stepped out into the hallway. 

Banana ran through the crack in the door straight down the hallway, and scampered into the living room. Carson trailed behind him cautiously, but when he rounded into the living room he found it empty. 

Carson let out a deep sigh of relief, and moved faster into the kitchen. He set up his french press and put some water on the stove before filling Banana’s food bowl and replacing his water. Carson always cared for Matt’s cat when he wasn’t home. Matt had never actually asked him to, but his brothers never did it and he wasn’t going to let Banana starve. The cat purred and rubbed up against Carson’s leg as he set the water bowl down on the floor. 

“There you go, buddy.” He whispered to the cat, scratching behind his ears while he lapped at the water in front of him. 

Carson straightened up and sighed. He leaned against the counter while he waited for his water to boil. Carson closed his eyes and tried to slow his mind. The beating in his chest was methodical and calming, and if Carson tried hard enough, he could block everything out but the sound of his own heart. 

The whistle from the kettle stirred Carson out of his reverie, and he rushed to turn off the burner, pouring the boiling water into his french press to let his coffee brew. He wasn’t hungry, and the only thing he had in the way of breakfast items anyway was cereal and even making a bowl of that felt like too much work. 

Carson jumped when he heard the front door open, grabbing his chest in surprise as it slammed shut. 

“Hello?” A voice called out, and Carson paused. He stuck his head out of the kitchen entryway cautiously and blinked in confusion. 

Ryan was standing just at the threshold, looking down the hallway. He turned his head and caught Carson’s eyes, offering him a fake smile. Carson’s eyes bugged out of his head, suddenly remembering that picture he’d seen in Matt’s phone, and he blushed profusely, lowering his head to try and hide his face.

“Carson. Not who I was looking for, but you’ll do. Where’s Harrison?” Ryan asked plainly, strolling into the living room and heading towards the kitchen. 

“Uhh, I don’t think he’s here, actually,” Carson mumbled. “He and Jackson got into a fight last night after the uh —”

“After they got Matt banned from Seven-Eleven for shoplifting? Yeah, I heard. Matt told me.” Ryan stalked forward, and Carson felt cornered. Like a gazelle just in sight of a hungry lion ready to pounce. 

“Matt told me a lot of things, actually. Things I need to address.” 

Carson went pale, and gulped. Ryan pulled off the baseball cap he was wearing and set it on the kitchen table before running his fingers through his hair and pulling it into a low bun at the back of his head. 

“So, what’s been going on, Carson.” Ryan stared at him pointedly, unblinking and serious. Carson began stammering. 

“W-well I-I mean, wh-what do you mean?” Carson asked, a shade of deep crimson settling across his cheeks. 

“Do _not_ bullshit me right now, Carson. You know exactly what I’m talking about because you’re part of the damn problem.” Ryan said firmly. Carson had never actually seen Ryan angry before. Granted, he didn’t hang out with him much unless Matt or his brothers were also present, and Jackson and Harry always behaved themselves around Ryan. He wasn’t yelling, which is what terrified Carson the most. He could deal with yelling, his brother’s had been yelling at him, at each other, and at outsiders his entire life. Ryan’s anger manifested more like a disappointed parent. Like a dad who was about to ground you for getting an F on your report card. 

Carson’s gut instinct told him to protect his brothers no matter the cost. Stall, lie, and avoid confrontation until Harrison or Jackson were there to bail him out. It was cowardly and weak, but it’s what Carson was used to. 

But he was alone. 

Harrison wasn’t home, and he hadn’t heard any sign of Jackson stirring. He was alone, and Ryan was going to tear him open. 

“I-I’m not bullshitting you, I promise, just…” Carson trailed off, watching Ryan with wild eyes. 

“Okay. Say you aren’t bullshitting me. Why don’t you tell me in your own words what happened yesterday?” Ryan took a seat at the kitchen table, and nodded across from him, motioning Carson to do the same. 

Carson shuffled nervously around the table, sitting precariously at the edge of his chair. 

“Sit back, Carson. You aren’t going anywhere until I figure out what’s going on.” Ryan said firmly. Carson took a deep breath and settled back in his chair. 

“Uhm. Okay. Harry and Jackson wanted to go to Seven-Eleven, so they got me to ask Matt if he wanted to come. Actually ...” Carson paused. “Well, they said they told me to ask him to drive but I forgot that bit…” Carson scratched the back of his head. Ryan said nothing, waiting for him to continue. 

“Anyways, Matt drives us to the store and he uh, he’s been like, really down recently? Like ever since Australia.” Ryan narrowed his eyes at that. 

“What do you mean down?” He asked cautiously. Carson thought for a moment before replying.

“Distant? I dunno he used to hang out with all of us but now he just kinda stays in his bedroom. I ...” Carson paused, and his face fell. “I’ve missed him. He hasn’t been spending time with me as much anymore.” Ryan frowned. 

“Okay. Continue.” He said.

“Right, he’s been really down, but he seemed happier after the ride and he wanted to hold my hand,” Carson blushed, and he wasn’t sure why he felt the need to tell Ryan that piece, but it didn’t seem to phase him in the slightest. 

He was at the part in the story that he desperately wanted to change. He gulped, and looked at his french press sitting on the counter. 

“Uhm, do you want coffee? I just made some.” Carson started to get out of his chair, but Ryan shot him a rather incredulous look and he sat back down. 

“I don’t drink coffee. Finish the story, Carson.” 

“Right. Uh,” Carson blushed. “Harrison is ... has — he has like, a shoplifting problem? He’s been a klepto since we were kids, honestly, and I always tell him he shouldn’t do it but he doesn’t listen to me,” Some of that statement was true, at least. “Anyways, he uh. He started putting things in Matt’s pockets. And I —” Carson stopped short, and hung his head. 

“I should have said something, but I didn’t.” He mumbled, ashamed. He avoided Ryan’s judgemental gaze and continued. 

“I went outside to wait for them and they got thrown out. Cue arguments followed by me having a panic attack, yay. Matt took me home and helped me to my room and then he left.”

“And you haven’t talked to him since?” Ryan confirmed, and Carson shook his head. 

“Not him or my brothers.” Ryan nodded, and looked at him painfully. Carson could feel Ryan’s stare, like lasers shooting directly into his skull. It permeated his brain, turning it to mush and goop, spilling out of his ears and nostrils. 

“You know that's fucked up, right Carson?” Ryan asked, plainly. Carson couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t nod in agreement, because that would admit his wrong doing, but he couldn’t get defensive either. After all, he _knew_ he was in the wrong. 

“What else has been happening?” Ryan pressed ahead, determined. 

“Uhm,” Carson muttered, his eyes darting around in an attempt of avoidance. 

“Don’t pull this shit with me, Carson.” Ryan said firmly. “I’m not leaving this fucking house until I find out what’s been happening. Be vivid. Paint me a damn picture, you’re good at that right?”He asked, shooting Carson a pointed look. 

“Go on.” He said, gesturing for Carson to continue.

“Harry’s uh,” Carson started, and paused. “You don’t understand, Ryan, I —” Carson mumbled. 

“No, Carson. You don’t understand.” Ryan stood from his chair. Ryan wasn’t exceptionally tall. He was actually about the same height as Carson, but he was wide. Broad shoulders, big arms, legs, and a beard that Carson couldn’t even dream of growing. He was a man, and Carson felt like a little kid looking up at him. 

“Matt’s been through enough in his life. Been through too much for a punk like you to not come forward and help him out. He’s been losing sleep, and money, and he’s lost _friends._ Ever since he fucking moved in with you and your piece of shit brothers." 

“They aren’t —” Carson started, but was instantly cut off. 

“They aren’t what, Carson? You know, you don’t _actually_ have to defend them. I think they’ve brainwashed you almost as much as they brainwashed Matt.” Ryan said matter-of-factly. 

Carson closed his mouth and looked to the floor. He couldn’t look up at Ryan, who apparently was refusing to sit down, opting instead to tower above him like some kind of irreverent god looking down at a mortal.

Carson honestly couldn’t remember the last time he’d spoken out against either Jackson or Harrison in any capacity. They always stuck by his side, vouched for him, helped him out. Why wouldn’t he do the same?

“It’s so hard, Ryan. You don’t have siblings, you…” Carson felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes. He sighed, and finally stared up at the man standing above him. 

“I think Jackson is in love with him. Or he’s obsessed with him, at any rate. Harrison’s just… a bully. He knows what he wants and will do anything to try and get it. And he’s just mean sometimes, I guess.” 

“Since when is Jackson in love with him?" Ryan asked, genuinely confused. “I see Jackson almost everyday and haven’t picked up on that once.”

“He’s ... he’s jealous. Of, like. You.” Carson said. “I’ve actually, like, asked him about it before. It’s something about how Matt ditched him for you and like, he works for the both of you now.” Carson did his best to explain in a succinct and concise way; he just had a feeling going into any deeper detail could land him in hot water. 

“I know there’s something you aren’t telling me, Carson. You can’t fool me.” Ryan said with a soft chuckle.

“I’m not trying to fool you!” Carson exclaimed. “Can you like, not tower over me please,” He mumbled. “You’re making me nervous.”

“Yeah, that was the goal,” Ryan snorted. “Is Jackson here, then? I know Harry isn’t.” 

“I don’t know, actually. I didn’t hear him leave but he could’ve after I fell asleep.” Carson explained. 

“Well, let’s go see.” Ryan extended a hand out to him. Some kind of peace treaty of a sort, and Carson took it cautiously and let Ryan help him to his feet. 

Ryan let Carson lead the way, trailing behind him. Carson still felt like prey, like he was being stalked and hunted. He knocked on Jackson’s bedroom door, but there was no response. 

“Jackson?” Carson called out. Ryan pushed Carson out of the way and opened the door to Jackson’s room. 

It was empty, the bed unmade, but not slept in. Jackson was nowhere to be seen. 

“Huh,” Carson said. “I really didn’t think he’d left.” He mumbled. Ryan sighed. 

“Whatever. When your brothers come back, Carson, you better call me.” Carson nodded.

“I will, I promise.” 

“Good. Matt's staying with me until I figure shit out here, I'm gonna grab some stuff for him.” Ryan made his way down the hallway to Matt's room. 

“Did he not want to come over?” Carson asked, trailing behind. Ryan snorted. 

“He's pretty worn out.” Ryan said, pushing the door open to Matt's room. 

Carson hadn’t been expecting Ryan to stop in the doorway, and bumped into him after he didn’t move. 

“Oh, you’ve got to be _fucking_ kidding me.” Ryan said, in disbelief. He barked out a laugh and wandered into the room, making way for Carson to peer inside. 

Matt’s room was messy, clothes lay strewn across the floor and empty bottles littered his nightstand and desk. The blinds were drawn, but through the darkness Carson could make out a figure curled up on Matt’s bed. 

Jackson lay asleep, curled up in a fetal position facing the wall, cradling the handle of Everclear that Matt had purchased a month ago for him and Carson. Ryan stalked towards the window and threw open the curtains, filling the bedroom with bright sunlight. 

_“WAKE UP, JACKSON!”_ Ryan bellowed, standing at the foot of Matt’s bed. Jackson groaned, and lurched forward, hitting his head on the wall. He cursed and pulled away, letting go of the bottle and reaching up to grab his forehead. 

“Mother fuck —” Jackson said. His eyes remained shut while he held his head in his hands. 

“Rise and fucking shine, Jackson. Want to explain to me what you’re doing in Matt’s bed?” Ryan snarled, crossing his hands across his chest. Carson stood awkwardly in the doorway, looking on as the scene unfolded in front of him. He didn’t know if he wanted to watch, or run and hide, but his feet remained planted firmly on the ground. 

“Oh fuck,” Jackson said with a grimace. He rolled onto his back and lifted himself up slowly until he was leaning against the headboard, still nursing his head which was undoubtedly swelling underneath his palm. “Oh god, Ryan? What are you doing here?” Jackson said, his voice groggy and weak from just waking up. Carson felt it difficult to find sympathy for him, being so thoroughly caught. A stuck fly, wound tightly in silk about to be devoured. 

“You know, I actually came here trying to find Harrison, but your other brother has been surprisingly helpful, even if I had to practically beat the information out of him,” Ryan started, and at his mention Jackson stared over towards the doorway, towards Carson, his eyes beady and cruel. “You and Harry have been priming Carson up to be just like you, huh?” Ryan jerked his head in Carson’s direction. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jackson hissed. “He’s our brother, he has our backs.” Carson went pale when Ryan laughed in Jackson’s face. Ryan’s laugh was full and jovial, but it made a cacophony of sound, bouncing off the walls in Matt’s bedroom. 

“Look, you’re right, I can’t deny that, he was definitely pussy-footing around everything. So tell me, Jackson. What’s your problem? I wanna hear it in your own damn words, not your baby brother.” 

“My problem,” Jackson said, climbing out of Matt’s bed. “My problem is _you._ ” Jackson stalked towards Ryan, and shoved a finger into his chest. Jackson was taller than Ryan, but it was obvious to Carson that Ryan wasn’t intimidated in the slightest. He kept his arms crossed and his expression blank while Jackson got in his face, unblinking and unbothered. 

“Me?” Ryan asked, suspicious. 

“Everything was fucking perfect before you. Matt was my best friend, and I was his. We made shit together, we were winning competitions, we were going to be on top of the fucking world. And then you, you and Daniel sweep him off his feet and take him to LA, and away from me.” 

Ryan blinked at him, unmoved.

“And now he doesn’t even have a degree!” Jackson tacked on, noticing Ryan’s complete lack of interest.

“I honestly don’t see what your issue here is, Jackson.” Ryan said casually, shrugging. “Neither of us ever forced Matt out to LA, he made that decision on his own. _I_ wasn’t even the one who invited him.” 

“You took him away from me,” Jackson plowed on, ignoring Ryan’s comment entirely. “Daniel died, and you used Matt as his replacement for your own benefit.” 

It felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. A heady silence fell over the three men, and Carson watched as Ryan smiled, and nodded, before he grabbed Jackson’s shirt in his fist and quickly walked both of them backwards until Jackson’s back was pressed up against the wall.

“Right,” Ryan said, snarling. He pushed Jackson further, slamming him against the wall with enough force so his head jolted back. “If I _ever_ hear Daniel’s name from your lips again, I _will_ put you in the hospital. I will reinvent the fucking definition of misery and introduce you to the concept.” Ryan let go of Jackson’s shirt, pushing him back once more before stepping away.

“Matt made his own decisions. He’s living his own fucking life, and Jackson, that life doesn’t include you in the fucking romance department.” Ryan said firmly. Jackson didn’t respond, still shaken up from Ryan forcing his back against the wall.

“The fact of the matter is this, Jackson: You woke up and hit your head, I woke up and got some.” 

Ryan made his way to Matt’s closet, and grabbed a backpack hanging off the door. 

Jackson stayed stock still, watching as Ryan made his way around the room, gathering pieces of clothing and packing them away. Carson stepped out of the doorway and let Ryan pass through. He made brief eye contact with Jackson, and he immediately regretted it. 

“Nice going, fucking pussy.” Jackson bit out, gaze heated. 

“Fuck off, Jackson.” Carson mumbled, standing his ground. 

“Some fucking brother you are.” 

Carson gulped, and turned out of the room, closing the door firmly behind him. 

“He’s half right, you know,” Carson looked down the hallway to see Ryan, standing at the end with Matt’s backpack slung over his shoulder. Banana sat at his feet, poised, and perfectly obedient. “You are a pussy.” Ryan said matter-of-factly. 

Carson didn’t say anything. There wasn’t anything he could reply with, he just looked away, ashamed. 

“Look, Carson. When you grow a pair, you know where I stay.” Ryan said, and Carson knew it was absolute, that Ryan didn’t want anything to do with him unless it was coming clean about his brother's crimes.

“I’m taking Banana with me, too. He deserves to be with his dad.” Ryan reached down to pick the cat up, and awkwardly cradled him in his arms. 

“Wait, Ryan,” Carson asked, a memory popping into his head. “I — Matt and I got really close, and I feel awful about everything, I really do,” Carson said, walking forward down the hallway. 

“But he’s said some, like… some stuff that I… I wanna know what happened to him. I wanna help.” 

Ryan’s eyes narrowed, and he tensed up. 

“What do you mean ‘what happened to him’?” Ryan asked. His tone was cool and even, but Carson could detect something hidden underneath. 

“I know about Mark. And I know that something else happened in South Carolina. I just — I want to help him, I —”

“I’m gonna stop you right there, Carson.” Ryan interrupted him, and Carson shut his mouth immediately. 

“You. Are not. Nancy _fucking_ Drew, and Matt’s past isn’t some mystery for you to ‘solve’. It’s not a point-and-click fucking adventure, and he doesnt owe you any information about what he’s been through.” Ryan spat out. He walked towards Carson, forcing him backwards. Carson almost tripped over his own feet in his haste, and ended up with his back against the doorframe to the living room.

“I promise you Carson, if whatever he did tell you manages to get out in any way shape or form, I know exactly who’ll be at fault.” Ryan crowded him, his face inches from Carson’s, who had to turn his head to the side. Ryan snorted, and took a step back. He still managed to look intimidating even cradling Banana under his arm. 

“Grow a backbone, Carson. Then we can talk.”

Ryan turned, and left the apartment. 

Carson could finally breathe. He stood against the doorframe sucking deep breathes in through his nostrils, letting himself feel the rise and fall of his stomach and his heartbeat return back to its normal pace. 

He thought about his coffee sitting in the french press, and how over-brewed it would be. How it would taste bitter and burnt. Unsatisfying. 

“Fuck.” he mumbled to himself. Carson wandered over to the sofa and sat down carefully, hunching over himself and holding his head in his hands. He sat there, alone, and thought. 

He thought about everything, about his brothers, about Matt, about his own actions. About how his lack of confidence and blind loyalty towards his family had warped his perception of what was just. All his brothers ever did was force him to keep his head down and his nose out of their business. 

Carson was startled out of his reverie by the front door slamming shut, and he jumped from his seat at the couch. It was Harrison, back from wherever he’d vanished to the night before, wearing sunglasses and… 

“Is that a new jacket?” Carson mumbled. 

“Hey, Carson. Yeah, got it last night. You look like shit.” Harrison deadpanned, shucking off his brand new leather jacket and hanging it up on the coat rack next to the door. 

“Ryan was here.” 

Harrison took off his shades and nodded to himself, crossing the living room to take a seat in his armchair. 

“I had a feeling he was gonna come by.” Harrison said. He leaned forward and picked up the ashtray sitting on the coffee table, rooting around through the debris before plucking out a roach and blowing it off. He stuck it between his lips and grabbed a lighter. 

“That’s disgusting.” Carson said, disgusted. Harrison just ignored him, sucking in and exhaling the smoke up into the air. “How did you know he was gonna come?” Carson pressed. 

“Because Matt’s a pussy.” Harrison shrugged. 

“You got him banned from a store.” Carson pointed out. 

“That was absolutely not my intention,” Harrison said firmly, glaring at Carson. “That was on Jackson. And Matt, honestly, if he hadn’t been such a fucking girl about it then —”

“Why are you so needlessly mean, Harry?” Carson asked, and the words coming out of his mouth shocked him as much as they shocked Harrison, who stared at him, completely dumbfounded. 

“What did you just say?” Harrison asked cooly, narrowing his eyes and leaning back in his chair. He spread his legs wide in some kind of act of power, but Carson felt poison in his lungs, bubbling up and bursting forward before he could do anything about it.

“You’re mean, Harrison. You’ve always been mean, ever since we were kids. You’re mean to Jackson, and me, and you’re unreasonably mean to Matt. I mean,” Carson lurched forward and stood up from his seat on the sofa. “I mean, what did Matt ever do to you?”

“Exist. And be easy to make fun of.” Harrison shrugged, pulling the roach to his lips and taking another drag. “It’s all in good fun, Carson. I don’t hate Matt or anything, he’s just an easy target.” 

Carson stared at his older brother, confused and annoyed. He walked forward, trying to imitate what Ryan had done to him earlier, standing close to his brother and attempting to box him in.

“So you think what you’re doing is harmless? You think… you think that forcing Matt to give you money he doesn’t owe you is harmless? You think that using his car without telling him is harmless? You think all those homophobic comments you make about him are harmless?”

“Woah, I’m not homophobic,” Harrison said defensively, breaking his tough guy persona. “I have a bunch of gay friends. Matt included!” 

“Do you think making Matt pay the majority of the rent to begin with, and then skirting on your portions to buy new jackets is harmless?” Carson gestured at the new leather jacket in question. 

“What the fuck is your deal, Carson, why are you on my ass about this? You didn’t have a problem with it at all yesterday.” 

“I wish I could go back in time and change that.” Carson muttered, crossing his arms across his chest and shooting daggers at Harrison. 

Harrison hummed, and set the roach back in the ashtray. Carson yelped in surprise when Harrison grabbed him by the wrist and tugged him forward, causing Carson to stumble into his lap.

“And I wish you’d go back to being my sweet baby brother who kept his mouth shut and looked up to me, Carson.” Harrison crooned into Carson’s ear, his breath reeked of stale weed and it made Carson retch and wriggle out of his grasp. Harrison laughed at him, sitting back in his chair and watching Carson collect himself from the assault. 

“You’re such a freak, Harrison. And!” Carson pointed at his brother. “You gave Matt bedbugs! I haven’t forgotten about that!” Harrison looked at him incredulously. 

“That was like, months ago. You weren’t even in LA yet, dude.” Harrison scoffed, picking the roach up again. 

“You know what you are, Harry? At a base level?” Carson asked, his voice lowered. He folded his arms across his chest. 

“Enlighten me, baby bro. I’m all ears.” Harrison mumbled, disinterested. He looked at his nails, instead of at Carson.

“You’re a bad brother.” 

That statement certainly got Harrison’s attention, and he looked up at Carson coldly. 

“You’re a bad brother, and a bad friend. And I don’t look up to you.” Carson said. 

He didn’t let Harrison reply, instead turned on his heel and exited the living room. 

Carson felt a rush of adrenaline slamming his bedroom door. His nerves were on fire and his hands couldn’t stop shaking with the thrill of standing up to his brother. He leaned against his door to catch his breath. He felt victorious and uplifted, his heart racing for what felt like the millionth time in such a short time span, but this time it was for different reasons. Less cowardice and fear, now a rush of turbulent joy coursed through his veins and ignited a fire under him. 

He needed to do more. 

He was still scared shitless of his older brother. Brothers, plural. Jackson hadn’t looked at him too kindly when he left Matt’s room. Carson was so overjoyed at his outburst, he didn’t hear Matt’s door slamming, and Jackson stalking down the hallway towards the living room. 

But he did hear the shouting match that followed. 

Carson had gotten good at ignoring the constant bickering from his older brothers, they fought all the time when they were younger, and Carson never got involved. He opened his bedroom door and peered down the hallway. 

Garbled nonsense, talking over each other, Jackson kicking things. It was textbook, and Carson snuck out of his room to the end of the hall. Jackson had left Matt’s door ajar, and Carson pushed it open silently. He was positive that Ryan had forgotten a few things in his haste to leave the house. 

Sure enough, Matt’s Macbook sat open on his desk, and Carson had an immediate suspicion that Jackson had been snooping. He felt a nauseating feeling in his stomach, remembering that not too long ago he had done the same, and he hastily shut Matt’s computer, looking away as he did so, making sure he wouldn’t see whatever was on screen. Ryan had grabbed clothing, but Carson unplugged Matt’s phone charger from the wall, and his laptop charger too, knowing Matt would be thankful for it. 

He snuck back down the hallway and into his bedroom, shutting his door and semi-effectively silencing his brother’s obnoxious rage. 

Carson let out a breath, one he’d been holding since he’d snuck into Matt’s room. He dumped Matt’s laptop and chargers onto his bed, before collapsing next to them. He glanced at his clock and realized he’d only been awake for an hour. 

Carson groaned and covered his eyes with his palms. He was still wearing his clothing from yesterday, not having bothered to put on pajamas last night, opting to sleep uncomfortably in jeans instead of getting up. He sighed loudly. 

Carson desperately didn’t want to leave his bedroom, and face his two brothers together. He was terrified after all, confronting Harrison one-on-one, despite the amount of delight he felt afterwards. 

He debated with himself internally. He didn’t want to share space with his brothers right now. Didn’t want to be scared to leave his bedroom. He stood from his bed and squared his shoulders, determined. 

Carson changed clothes, and placed Matt’s laptop and chargers into a tote bag slung over his shoulder. He grabbed his favorite camera, and hung it around his neck. If he was going to leave his house for the day, he wanted something to do. 

He sighed heavily, and opened his door. The screaming had died down, and Carson walked nervously down the hallway. He didn’t bother looking into the living room, just reached for the handle of the front door —

“Where are you going, Carson?” Carson gulped, but refused to turn around to answer his brother’s question. 

“Anywhere is better than here.” Carson mumbled, pulling open the door. 

“We’re your family, Carson. Does that really mean so little to you? That you’re gonna walk out on us completely?” Harrison spat out. Carson turned slightly. Harrison was standing, and Jackson was sitting on the sofa. They both stared at him, eyes cruel and dead. 

“Do you guys ever quit staring?” Carson muttered, annoyed. “I’m not walking out on you _completely_ or whatever you think. I just…” Carson trailed off, trying to think of the right words. 

“I’m fucking scared of you guys, and I shouldn’t be. So until you figure this shit out? I’ll find somewhere else to stay.”

“Carson, this is ridiculous,” Jackson said, exasperated. “You don’t have to go to bat for Matt’s fuckin’ honor.” 

“I don’t have to go to bat for your honor either!” Carson exclaimed. “And I’ve been standing up for you guys even when I knew what you were doing was exploitative.” 

His brothers said nothing. 

“I still love you guys,” He mumbled. “We just all need to do some self-reflecting.” Harrison scoffed, and with that, Carson finally walked out the door. 

The sun was shining down on him, bright and yellow and upbeat as he walked the long blocks of Los Angeles. Carson didn’t like driving, and he typically ended up using Harry or Jackson’s car if he needed to, and he didn’t want to ask either of them for that, so he settled on walking. 

He needed coffee more than anything, remembering his abandoned french press still sitting on the kitchen counter. There was a coffee shop not too far from his house, so he headed in that direction, sticking his headphones in and listening to music to drown out all the thoughts in his head. 

Carson couldn’t shake that nagging feeling in his head, as he sat down at a table after he’d gotten his coffee. He could pull out Matt’s computer right now, and dig until he found what he was looking for, or at least found something that would point him in the right direction. He was still desperately curious. So close to getting to the root of Matt, figuring him out entirely. 

But he pushed that thought aside. He was better than that, and he felt insanely guilty about it now, especially since the first thing he thought of when he saw Ryan was the dick pic that he’d stumbled on. 

Carson scrolled through his phone instead, looking at Instagram and trying not to think about Matt, or his brothers. But it was near impossible. 

Matt had updated his story for close friends last night, and Carson clicked on it instantly. It was a photo of his legs laid across Ryan’s lap, Ryan had a hand wrapped entirely around Matt’s skinny calve, and his face was blurry like Matt had caught him mid sentence.

Carson bit his lip. He knew what he needed to do more than anything was apologize to Matt. That should have been first on his to-do list. He knew where Ryan lived, but he didn’t know his actual address. 

**CARSON:** hey matt. I was hoping we could talk some time today? 

Carson sent the message quickly, and immediately closed his phone. He set it down on the table, drank his coffee, and waited. 

He wasn’t even sure if Matt would grant him a reply, let alone actually want to talk to him after all that’s happened. Ryan had probably told him what he’d witnessed after going to their house. When his phone lit up with Matt’s reply, he reached for it instantly. 

**MATT:** yeah, okay. you can come to ryan’s, we’ll be here all day.

Matt texted him Ryan’s address, and Carson opted to like the reply instead of typing something out. 

He sat and finished his coffee, trying to play out multiple different scenarios in his head and figure out what he should say to Matt. He knew just sorry wasn’t going to cut it. He was gonna have to come clean. 

He called an uber, and slid into the backseat of a grey Toyota Corolla, rolling down the window and awkwardly avoiding small talk with the driver in favor of watching the palms trees pass by. Ryan’s place was pretty close, and he soon found himself standing nervously in front of his apartment complex, debating whether or not to ring the doorbell. 

His cowardice nearly won again, and he was about to turn away, but he thought of going back home to his brothers and stood his ground, pressing the doorbell. 

Carson heard barking from the other side, which instantly made him nervous. 

“Lego, chill out!” Carson heard from the other side, and then the door opened. Ryan was standing there, a large white dog at his feet. He raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Hi again, Carson.” 

“Uh, hi.” Carson said awkwardly, shuffling his weight between his feet.

“Come in. Have you met Lego?” Ryan swung the door open and the dog sitting his feet eagerly butted up against Carson's legs, his wet nose leaving an imprint against his jeans. 

“Hey buddy.” Carson mumbled, patting Lego on the head before stepping into the threshold. 

Ryan's apartment was pretty bare, a TV, a coffee table, and a sofa taking up most of the living room. Matt was lounging on the sofa in question, still wearing pajamas and looking more at ease than Carson had seen him in a long time. 

“Hey Carson.” Matt said, offering him a wave but staying in his seat. 

Carson shut the door gingerly behind him, and stood there awkwardly, unsure of himself. 

“Matt,” Carson started, and blushed. “I uh, I brought you your computer.” Carson said, lifting his shoulder and gesturing to the tote bag. 

“I’ll take it.” Ryan said, extending his hand. Carson handed it over, and Ryan turned down the hallway.

“Thanks, dude.” Matt said. 

“It’s no problem,” Carson replied quickly. “Look I- I'm sorry, I'm so fucking awkward.” Carson laughed uncomfortably, scratching the back of his head and looking down nervously at the floor. 

“Yeah,” Matt sighed. “Just come sit.” 

Carson did, crossing the room delicately. Ryan had reappeared, and Carson could feel him watching his every move, eyes burning into the back of his skull. He sat opposite Matt, and tucked his legs up against his chest. 

“I’m here because… because I owe you an apology,” Carson said quietly. 

“Okay.” Matt said quickly, unblinking. Ryan snorted. 

“I… yeah. I’m sorry, Matt for ... for just letting my brothers do that stuff to you. I guess I just…” Carson trailed off, trying to think of what he wanted to say. Maybe he should have spent more time thinking about it. 

“They have this sort of, uh. Moral code? Since we were kids. Just, stick by each other and have each other's backs. Harry started it back when he stole candy from the corner store and made Jackson and I be the look-out.”

“Normal behavior.” Ryan chimed in, and Carson blushed profusely.

“Yeah… I just have. I have a hard time like, saying no to either of them, or just going up against what they say. It’s so hard, they —”

“They’ve been gaslighting you,” Ryan said simply. “You and Matt. They don’t fucking steal from you, though. Or sleep in your bed.” 

“I — yeah,” Carson mumbled, confused. “What’s gaslighting?” 

“Yeah, actually…” Matt said quietly, turning to look at Ryan. “I honestly don’t really know what that means either…” Matt trailed off. 

“Matt, what the hell?” Ryan laughed, shaking his head. “I told you last night and you fucking agreed with me.” 

“I couldn’t think last night, Ryan! I still ... I still haven’t even told you everything.” Matt mumbled. 

“Gaslighting,” Ryan said, strolling over to the pair of them and plopping himself down in the middle of the sofa. “Is not just telling a fucking joke, or a lie. It’s a deliberate tactic that abusive people, like your shitty brothers, use to try and make you believe something that isn’t true.” 

Carson blinked, and his eyes opened. “Oh fuck.” He said softly, like the fog obscuring his vision had finally cleared and he could finally see through to the other side. “Oh, shit.” He repeated, laughing. 

“Once you know the word, it’s easy to spot.” Ryan said. He pulled Matt’s legs into his lap, and held him tightly around the calf, like he had been doing in the photo on Matt’s instagram story. “People use it incorrectly all the fucking time though.” 

“I think ...” Carson looked at the pair of them, lowering his limbs to sit cross-legged on the sofa instead. “I really don’t think Harrison or Jackson hate you. I _definitely_ don’t hate you, Matt. I think you’re great and… and I really look up to you, honestly. You’re… like an older brother…” Carson trailed off, and Matt smiled at him, blushing. 

“Thank you, Carson. That actually really means a lot.” Matt said, smiling. 

“Yeah… but, right. Harrison is mean to, like… everyone? It’s just been so centered on you because Jackson calls him out and I’m his brother so like… I dunno… he’ll probably tone it down if you say something?” Carson suggested, and Ryan barked out a laugh. 

“So your solution is for Harrison to be more of an equal opportunity abuser?” He asked, incredulously, shaking his head.

“I don’t know!” Carson squeaked out, flushed. “I seriously can’t remember a time where he _hasn’t_ been an ass. He —” Carson cut himself off in his haste, nearly choking on his own spit. “He came back home, like, ten minutes after you left, Ryan. Said he had a feeling that you were gonna come over and he was glad that he missed you.” Ryan snorted, rolling his eyes. 

“See, that’s pussy shit, Carson. I know I called _you_ a pussy, Carson, but it’s your fucking older brother. Hang on.” Ryan fished his phone out of his pocket. Carson and Matt both watched him, leaning in to observe closely while Ryan opened his messages and scrolled to find Harrison’s name. 

“What are you gonna say to him?” Carson asked, nervously. 

“I’m keeping it simple.” Ryan mumbled. Carson and Matt both watched as Ryan simply typed out ‘Stop.’ to Harrison, and hit send.

“If he wants to ask me what, then I’ll let him have it,” Said Ryan, setting his phone on the coffee table. It clattered on the wooden surface. “I won’t let him torment my boy anymore.” Ryan said, giving Matt’s leg, still laid out across his lap, a firm squeeze. 

Matt cooed, and leaned forward, swinging his arms around Ryan’s neck and giving him a soft kiss on the cheek. 

“Thanks baby.” Matt said, exaggeratedly fluttering his eyelashes. Ryan rolled his eyes, but Carson saw his ears turn red at the pet name.

“Jackson is a different fucking story,” Ryan said, leaning back into the sofa. “I’m sorry Matt, but I do _not_ think you should live with him.” Matt unhooked his arms from Ryan’s neck and plopped backwards against the armrest of the couch, staring at Ryan pointedly. 

“Oh yeah, where should I stay, Ryan? Hm? Where should I go?” Matt folded his arms across his chest, and Ryan sighed heavily. 

“We’ve talked about this, Matthew.” Ryan said, his voice hushed. The intimacy he’d just witnessed a few moments ago had been replaced with something else entirely. Carson felt like he was intruding.

“Yeah. I know.” 

The pair were silent for a moment, and Carson bit his lip, stewing in his own awkwardness. 

“I think,” He started, and Matt and Ryan glanced over at him. “I think one of Jackson’s main uh… issues? Is that you guys aren’t officially dating. It’s like, because of that he feels like he’s competing for Matt’s uh… affection? And that he still has a chance…” 

“It’s pointless competition. Ryan will win every time.” Matt shrugged. Ryan held onto his legs even tighter. 

“Well, clearly, but the label might dissuade him, and if it doesn’t, I-I guess —”

“Then I’m well within my rights to knock his lights out,” Ryan said, grinning. “You have no idea how badly I wanted to throttle him this morning, Carson.” 

“You know, I think he’s been stealing my toothbrushes.” Matt piped up, and Ryan whipped his head towards him. 

“ _What?_ ”

“Yeah, uh,” Carson said with a nod. “I had my suspicions of that as well. I have since you mentioned it.” Ryan turned between the two of them. 

“Is there more stuff you haven’t mentioned? Either of you?” Ryan asked, his head bouncing between the two. Carson gazed over at Matt and from the look in Matt’s eyes, he knew. He knew Matt was keeping some information to himself. Carson wasn’t sure why, but if Matt was keeping it a secret, he was sure he had his reasons. 

“I told you everything, man.” Matt mumbled, trying his best to look earnest.

Carson could tell Ryan didn’t believe him, but he didn’t press it.

“I think if you guys went, not even like, public, but official. It would make a big difference.” Carson added, trying to ease the tension.

“Your solutions seem mediocre at best.” Ryan stated bluntly, and Matt lifted his leg up to kick him lightly. 

“Don’t be an ass. He’s trying to help!” Matt exclaimed defensively, and Carson gave him a soft smile. 

“Look, I appreciate the suggestions, Carson, but I don’t think sitting back and letting them get away with anything is going to cut it.” Ryan said firmly. 

“Ryan, this isn’t your fight!” Matt said suddenly, yanking his legs off of Ryan’s lap and out of his grasp. “This is me and Carson’s business, we gotta — we gotta fight for ourselves.” Matt mumbled, half-heartedly. He stood up, and put his hands on his hips. He was undoubtedly trying to make himself look bigger, and more confident, but wearing a pair of Ryan’s giant gym shorts and an old sleep shirt, he just looked more like a little kid trying to wear grown up clothes. 

“So you want to go back there? And live with them?” Ryan asked, incredulously. Matt nodded sheepishly, like he didn’t want to agree with him.

“Matthew, you told me you’ve been _miserable_ since we got back from Australia.”

“It was just because I wasn’t talking to Carson!” Matt squeaked out, his voice lifting to a high pitch at the end, like he was frightened. “I’m serious, now that I know Carson is with me I feel so much better, I can take on anything. In fact,” Matt said, picking up Ryan’s phone to check the time. “We can go over now. Carson?” 

“You’re not serious.” Ryan deadpanned, staring at Matt entirely dumbfounded. 

“I’m dead serious, Ryan. We’ll go confront them right now. Won’t we Carson?” Matt turned to him, head cocked to one side. 

“Uhh…” Carson had only just left the house, and he really _didn’t_ want to go back right away. 

“Great. I’ll be right back.” Matt turned, walking out of the living room leaving Carson stammering behind him. 

“Great,” Ryan mumbled, sighing deeply before standing up. “Wait here, Carson.” 

“Not going anywhere.” Carson confirmed with a curt nod, and Ryan followed Matt into what Carson presumed was his bedroom. 

Carson couldn’t hear them, and he found that he actually didn’t want to; he’d done enough snooping the past few months to last a lifetime. On top of that, if he’d learned anything over the past few months, Matt was always eager to tell him what was on his mind.

Carson leaned back against the sofa and waited. Lego wandered over to him and sat down next to him, bowing his head. 

“Aww,” Carson said out loud, reaching forward to scratch Lego behind the ears. The dog jumped up on the sofa and settled next to him, resting his head on Carson’s thigh. “You’re so sweet.” Carson mumbled. He wondered what Matt and Ryan were talking about that could take so long.

Carson didn’t know the exact timeline of their relationship, just that they’d met right before Ryan’s friend Daniel passed away, and Matt helped him heavily through the grieving process. Trauma bonded together, forever. They were nineteen and twenty-one when Daniel passed, and Carson hoped that he would never understand the amount of pain the pair of them had been through. 

The bedroom door swung open, and Matt strolled out, fully dressed with Ryan trailing behind him. Matt looked determined, while Ryan looked even more grumpy than before. 

“C’mon, Carson.” Matt said simply, nodding his head towards the front door. Carson nudged Lego off of his lap, and the dog followed him as he made his way towards the front door. 

“I’ll be back later, Ryan.” Matt mumbled, turning to Ryan and kissing him on the cheek. 

“Yeah.” Ryan sighed. “Do what you gotta do. Bye Carson.” Ryan ran his fingers through his hair, turning to slouch off back into his bedroom. 

Carson shuffled awkwardly through the door while Matt locked it behind them. 

“Are you guys okay?” He whispered, unsure if he should even ask. 

“I’ll tell you on the way.” Matt said with a sigh. Carson nodded, and followed Matt back to his car, climbing into the passenger seat and rolling the window down to feel the breeze against his face. 

“I love Ryan,” Matt said, sighing reverently. “I love him so much that it fucking hurts sometimes because...” Matt trailed off, focused on pulling out of the parking lot. Carson waited for him to continue. 

“He’s really private. Which is totally fine, and I respect that, completely. I’m just… not. I thought things were going to change after Australia, shit went _down_ in Australia, Carson.” Matt chuckled fondly at the memory. 

“Good things?” Carson asked, and Matt turned and grinned at him in confirmation. 

“Ryan got really, really jealous of me hitting on other guys. I’ll spare you the graphic details, but it was fuckin’ hot. At least, after I was done being hungover it was.” Carson snorted, watching Matt carefully. 

“But,” Matt continued. “I… I suggested moving back in with him. And he is just, like, not interested in sharing his space. We see each other every day, plus I come over all the time, and he wants a place to himself. Like, I _get_ it, but…” Matt trailed off, derailing his own thoughts.

“What stuff didn’t you tell him?” Carson asked, changing the subject.

“You are too fucking curious for your own good, Carson.” Matt chuckled, and Carson blushed. 

“Sorry….” Carson said quietly, lowering his head.

“I can’t tell him the stuff about Jackson. At least, not the extent of everything. I ... I love Jackson. He’s still one of my best friends, and I… I get where he’s coming from, I really do. Working for us must be kinda hard on him.” 

“You know, _he_ chooses to do that. He doesn’t have to work for you.” Carson pointed out, and Matt rolled his eyes. 

“That’s exactly what Ryan said.” 

“It’s true!” Carson exclaimed. “Do you — do you know how awful I felt, watching Jackson feed you that drink the first time I saw it? I —” 

“Well you didn’t fucking do anything, Carson!” Matt exclaimed in a sudden burst of anger. Carson retreated, sinking back into his seat. The car was silent for a moment, nothing but the sound of cars whizzing past them.

“I ... I know. I’m sorry.” Carson said. The car went silent again, until Matt sighed in acceptance. 

“Ryan saved me. That time it happened, with Mark? He straight up, full on, saved me, and I owe him so much for that and I don’t want him to have to save me again.” He sighed.

“I’ve been saving myself since I was a kid. I can do it again.” Matt mumbled. It sounded more like a pep talk for himself rather than speaking directly to Carson.

Carson didn’t respond. They were close to home anyways, and what was there to say to that?

Matt parked in their driveway, and turned to Carson. 

“Okay. We’re gonna go in there, I’m gonna tell Jackson that me and Ryan are dating and that the simp shit has to stop. And I’ll tell Harrison…” Matt stopped, contemplating. 

“That he has to stop targeting you?” Carson offered.

“Yeah. Yeah, that works. You ready?” 

Carson rolled his shoulders back and nodded, opening the car door. 

It felt like walking into a boss fight. A two-headed monster that had to be defeated to continue forward through the game if you wanted to win. Carson and Matt had been stuck on the same level for months. 

Matt opened the front door, and Carson was surprised to find that his brothers were exactly where he’d left them, sitting in the living room. 

“Damn, that was fast, Carson. Finish your self-reflecting?” Harrison asked, raising an eyebrow and smirking at the pair of them. 

“Ryan and I are dating.” Matt blurted out, Carson glanced at him and noticed his red face. Matt crossed his arms across his chest, as if he were protecting and shielding himself from whatever the pair of them might say. Jackson straightened up instantly, staring at him. 

“Like, for real?” Jackson asked, and Harrison rolled his eyes. 

“Stop being desperate, Jackson.” He laughed. 

“Yeah, for real. Since Australia.” Matt said, ignoring Harrison’s comment entirely. 

“Oh.” Jackson said. 

The four of them were silent, the tension hanging in the air felt so thick Carson was sure he could cut it with a knife, slice through the stilted, awkwardness and hope that clarity would eventually shine through. 

“Look, Matt,” Harrison said, standing up and walking towards him. “I legitimately really didn’t mean for you to get caught yesterday. I just thought —”

“That I’m the best target for it, right?” Matt said, his face flushed red and angry. 

“I mean,” Harrison chuckled, and rubbed the stubble on his chin. “Basically.” 

“Well, I’m not gonna be the fuckin’ target of your corny ass games anymore, Harry.” Matt spat out, much more confident than Carson had expected. Harrison snorted. 

“I don’t know what you’re even talking about.” Harrison said, rolling his eyes. 

“We both know that’s bullshit.” Matt stared at Harrison, standing his ground. Harrison narrowed his eyes flickering between Matt and Carson

“Fine. I’ll pay my rent on time. You happy?” Harrison brushed past them, shoulder checking both Matt and Carson as he made his way down the hall.

“So, uh, Matt,” Jackson got up as well, shuffling across the room. “Do you wanna, like, hang out? Go somewhere?” Jackson asked, his voice steady like he was trying to play everything cool. 

“Some other time, Jackson.” Matt said, sighing. Jackson smirked, and clapped him on the shoulder.

“Great, yeah. No rush or anything.” Jackson said, stepping around the pair of them and heading off down the hallway to his own bedroom. 

Carson blinked. They’d been in the house not even five minutes, and his brothers had already vanished themselves. Harrison had been completely unbothered by Matt’s comments, and Jackson wanted to act like everything was normal. 

“You don’t wanna talk to Jackson?” Carson asked, turning to Matt. 

“I’m hoping Ryan’s threats will be enough,” Matt mumbled. “That was… uneventful.” 

“Yeah,” Carson agreed, scoffing. “That was so weird.” 

“Whatever. We did it. Go us.” 

Matt’s words felt hollow and undeserved, like they’d been cheated. Or maybe they did the cheating, it was hard to tell. 

“Go us.” Carson copied. The pair of them stood in the threshold, feeling entirely unfulfilled. 

“I’m gonna go,” Matt said softly. “Maybe I can…” Matt trailed off, turning and pulling open the door with a heavy sigh. “I dunno. See you around, Carson.” 

Carson watched as Matt walked through the front door. He looked defeated, and Carson waved pathetically at him as he left. 

The tone of the household shifted after that day. 

Carson had never experienced claustrophobia before, but he imagined he was living it. The atmosphere of the house varied on who was around, but Carson always felt like he was walking on eggshells. He was still haunted with memories of the things he had witnessed, the things he didn’t put a stop to, and what he had encouraged. The air in the house was always tense, and the four of them hardly shared spaces at the same time anymore. 

Carson felt lost and disconnected from his brothers. He often tried to interact with them more, but the intense disappointment from both of them was palpable. He’d broken their moral code, after all. He and Matt definitely got closer, and Carson had been invited to tag along on some of his and Ryan’s date nights, which were really just smoking and watching movies at Ryan’s place, but hey, Carson would take anything to get out of the strained household

Harrison came around first, and Jackson followed soon after. Jackson had usually been a step behind his brother. They never talked about anything that happened. Everything was swept under the rug, locked in the basement and not touched or addressed. Harry was still a dick, and his dickishness was only fueled by his inability to purchase new leather jackets, since he had stuck to his word and paid his rent in full and on time. Carson made a mental note to try and get one for him, hopeful that would end his sour mood. 

Jackson’s drinks were still far too strong, but he no longer seemed interested in feeling Matt up, or whatever he thought he was doing. Jackson finally held the sole title of Matt’s best friend. There wasn’t competition for that particular label anymore. The ‘boyfriend’ label was another story, but Jackson seemed content enough, and Matt mentioned that he’d stopped needing to replace his toothbrushes. 

Carson watched the household with wide eyes, anxious and nervous that any small altercation could launch an unresolved argument. Harrison of course, was still a bully. Carson wasn’t sure if that would ever change, at least now his comments were distributed among the three of them. It was something.

The holidays were fast approaching, even though the sunny weather of Los Angeles never let up. The Tucker brothers were planning on going back home to North Carolina for Thanksgiving. Carson had been asking Matt if he was going back home too, if he wanted to try and get the same flight, but Matt had been increasingly hard to get a hold of. He was absent from the house more often than not. It felt like how it did in September, if Matt was home he was cooped up in his bedroom, avoiding them entirely. 

Matt did eventually tell Carson that he was going back home for Christmas, not Thanksgiving. Come November, the Tuckers flew back home, and Carson felt… good. He felt right, with his brothers and his family. So right that he didn’t want to go back home to the same tense living situation as before. 

They flew back the first week of December, and got back late at night. None of them had heard from Matt at all. He hadn’t responded to Carson asking to pick him up at the airport, or answered when he’d said they’d landed and were heading back. 

Once they landed, the three of them immediately went to bed. Matt wasn’t home, but Carson figured he was just at Ryan’s and didn’t want to deal with waking up to the three of them in the middle of the night.

“Hey, uh,” Jackson said over coffee the next day, wandering into the kitchen. “All of Matt’s stuff is gone.” Carson blinked. 

“What?” He asked, standing up quickly and jogging through the living room and down the hallway. 

Sure enough, all of Matt’s personal belongings, his plants, his art, everything gone but the bed frame, a bookshelf, and a desk. Carson pulled out his phone and called Matt. 

“Hello?” Matt sounded groggy on the other end of the line, which had almost rang to completion. 

“Where did — why —” Carson stammered, unsure what he actually wanted to ask. 

“Had to leave, C’rson…” Matt mumbled. “You woke me up, man,” Matt chuckled. Carson heard something in the background, movement, a faint voice. 

“I — sorry… Do you wanna meet up, dude? Do you —” 

“Not today, I’m… busy,” Matt settled on. “I’ll talk to you later, Carson.” Matt hung up before Carson could say goodbye. He stared at his phone, and looked up at the empty bedroom. 

“He’s — yeah, he —” Carson tried to speak, but he was entirely lost for words. 

“Well,” Harrison had come up behind him, swinging an arm around his shoulders. He pulled Carson into a side hug. “Guess we can finally replace him, huh?” 

“I —” Carson started. Harrison gave him a firm shake, and clapped him on the shoulder. 

“I’ll post a listing!” He said, gleefully. 

Carson stood still while Harrison exited the room, leaving him alone in what felt like an empty void. He counted the times he’d been here with Matt, helping him into bed, hanging out while they were drunk. The majority of their most intimate interactions and encounters were when Matt was drunk, and Carson wasn’t. When Carson was prying for information, trying to get Matt to reveal his darkest secrets —

Carson stopped himself. He couldn’t go down that train of thought, not without feeling like he was just as bad as his brothers. 

After all, he was nothing like them. 

Right?


	9. Bonus Chapter!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congratulations on making it to the end, have some pornography.

Matt jiggled his leg anxiously in the back seat of his Uber. He hadn’t expected his day to start on such a high note, but it was seriously rare that Ryan sent him full-on dick pics when he first woke up. Matt exercized all of his strength not to jerk off immediately, knowing his sex drive was not high enough to get it up again later in the day, not with the damn anti-depressants he was taking. 

He usually drove to work, but Harrison was using his car, for some reason, even though his own car sat perfectly fine on the street. So here Matt was, in an Uber, in dreadful LA traffic on his way to the ‘Plex. He drummed his fingers anxiously on his thigh and pulled out his phone to send Ryan another Snapchat. He snapped a picture of his hand on his thigh with the caption ‘be there soon’. 

He watched his phone, waiting desperately for Ryan to reply. The little arrow stayed red, his photo unopened, and Matt couldn’t help but feel deflated. Ryan was probably just away from his phone and working on something else, but Matt couldn’t help but feel a deep pang of rejection when Ryan didn’t answer him right away. 

Ryan had been the best thing to happen to Matt. He was a ray of sunshine poking through the turbulent storm clouds that had been hanging over Matt’s head. Matt didn’t know it was possible to be so deeply in love with every aspect of a single person, but it was easy with Ryan.

It was also pretty easy to love Ryan when the rest of his friends were kind of dicks. 

His phone lit up, and Matt rushed to open it, pulling up Snapchat to look at Ryan’s reply. It was a photo of Ryan’s hand against his desk, and Matt had to hold back a groan. Ryan’s hands were big, and rough. They were strong and masculine, and his grip was always firm and perfect. Matt was skinny enough that Ryan’s hand could fit entirely around his wrists, his calves… his throat. There wasn’t a caption, which was typical, but Matt knew what it was supposed to mean. 

He closed his eyes and thought about them, about Ryan using his hands to put him into whatever position he wanted, holding his hips or his waist so tight that his fingers left imprints and bruises on his skin. Little crescent-shaped marks from where his short fingernails had still managed to somehow leave an impression. 

Matt liked being marked up by him; he liked to know that he was claimed, in a sense. No matter if they had a label or not, Ryan was the only person who would ever get to have Matt in that way. Ryan was the only person who understood him and knew him intimately. Knew how rough around the edges Matt was, and wasn’t put off or disgusted by it. Ryan embraced every aspect about Matt, all his baggage, his trauma. Ryan had been his savior before, his literal knight in shining armor, and Matt had never been able to look at a human the same way since. 

Maybe that was a problem, but it was a problem that Matt had no desire to amend. 

After what felt like an eternity, the car finally pulled up into front of the ‘Plex. Matt thanked his driver, and bounded up the front entrance. Matt’s hands shook tremendously as he tried to fit his key into the lock, missing on the first two tries. 

“Fuck me.” Matt mumbled under his breath to himself. He got the key in eventually though, and swung open the front door. The house itself wasn’t fully furnished yet; there were boxes everywhere and their desks were all placed haphazardly wherever they could fit. It didn’t look like an office yet, not lived-in or worked-in by any stretch of the imagination, but it was one of, if not the biggest accomplishment the pair of them had made together. 

“Ryan?” Matt called out, wandering down the hallway, peering into rooms as he went. Matt let out a squeak as he entered the kitchen and was caught around the waist. Ryan tugged Matt into an embrace, pressing up against Matt's back and nuzzling fondly at his neck. His beard tickled against Matt’s skin, but he still tilted his head to give him more room. 

“Hi.” Matt said softly, laughing as Ryan planted a kiss on his neck. Ryan hummed, squeezing his waist before turning Matt’s body so they were facing each other. 

“Feels like I’ve been waitin’ for you for so long, Matt.” Ryan mumbled. Matt tossed his arms around his neck, and hummed playfully. 

“That’s just ‘cuz you’re a damn horndog.” Matt rolled his eyes, tossing Ryan a grin and leaning in to give him a peck on the lips. Ryan laughed, and backed Matt up so he was leaning against the counter, Ryan jutting his hips forward and grinding his cock against Matt’s thigh. 

“Wait — are we alone?” Matt asked, his voice dropping to a low whisper. The last thing he wanted was for Jackson to barge in on them, and Matt knew he was supposed to be coming in today. 

“Oh yeah, don’t worry about that. I took care of it,” Ryan leaned forward again, nosing along Matt’s jaw. His hands tucked up under Matt’s t-shirt, trailing up his stomach until he reached Matt’s chest. “I sent Jackson out on errands so he’ll be gone at least another two hours.” Ryan mumbled, one of his thumbs moving slowly over a nipple. Matt keened, throwing his head back and letting Ryan’s hands wander all over his chest. 

“Good,” Matt breathed out. He shivered under Ryan’s touch, eager for him to hold him tight, hold him down. “He’s literally the last person I wanna think about right now.” That made Ryan laugh, but before Matt could add anything on he suddenly found himself being lifted up, and he scrambled to hook his legs around Ryan’s hips. 

“Oh my god, warn me next time.” Matt giggled, leaning into Ryan. 

“There’s no fun in that, Matthew. I gotta keep you on your toes.” Ryan mumbled. He led them into the living room, where nothing had been set up apart from a large sofa and a television that sat on the floor in front of the fireplace. Ryan plopped himself down on the couch with Matt perched in his lap. Matt felt Ryan’s heated gaze without even looking at him. His head was thrown back as he allowed Ryan to run his hands solidly along the planes of his back, rubbing up and down before settling on his waist and squeezing him firmly. 

“I can’t believe you made me wait so long for you, baby.” Ryan said, smirking. Matt giggled, reaching down to tug his shirt up, and over his torso, letting it fall to the ground. 

“I’m not the one who ‘ _woke up horny as fuck_ ’. You know I like to take my time in the morning. You think you’d get this,” Matt pointed to his face and drew a circle in the air. “First thing in the morning?” 

“I mean,” Ryan said, now running his hands along Matt’s front and stopping to thumb over his nipples. “What I usually get first thing in the morning is you demanding that I fuck you.” Matt blushed, heat rising up his body. He could feel Ryan’s dick underneath him, hard and obvious in his shorts. 

“Not true,” Matt gasped out as Ryan pinched his chest. “Sometimes I demand to suck your dick.” 

“Oh, of course,” Ryan laughed, grinning up at him fondly. “Maybe you should do that right now.” Ryan suggested, winking at him sleazily. 

“Is that what you want?” Matt asked, shivering under Ryan’s touch. It wasn’t delicate, not anymore. Ryan liked leaving his mark on Matt just as much as Matt did, never anything deep or really painful, just reminders; something for Matt to look at to know that Ryan’s got him. 

“I want a lot of fuckin’ things, Matthew. My cock in your mouth is pretty high on that list right now,” Ryan gritted out, thrusting his hips up to grind his cock against Matt’s ass. Matt’s head swam, and he couldn’t help but smile fondly down at Ryan. “You just look so good, baby. So pretty when you suck my cock.” Ryan crooned, reaching up to cup Matt’s cheek, stroking him fondly. 

“What did you think of, exactly? I wanna know, when you first woke up and texted me, what did you think of?” Matt asked, shimmying back until he had settled on the ground between Ryan’s legs. 

“Ah, fuck, baby." Ryan said, as Matt slid his hand into Ryan’s gym shorts to grab his cock. Ryan was already so fucking hard, he’d really done nothing when he woke up, just drove straight to work and waited for Matt. It was so hot, and Matt felt surprisingly … loved. 

“I wanna know, dude, what did you think of?” Matt asked. He held Ryan’s cock firmly in his hand, shifting his position slightly and leaning forward. Matt looked up at Ryan through his lashes, and blinked at him, making them flutter. 

“God damn, Matthew. Just put my fucking dick in your mouth.” Ryan groaned. He looked flustered, caught up in watching Matt between his legs, focused so hard on getting his dick wet; but Matt was going to make him jump through a few hoops. 

“Not until you tell me!” Matt said, in an obnoxious sing-song voice. He held Ryan’s dick firmly at the base, squeezing him before giving a slow stroke, ignoring the hiss that came from Ryan’s mouth. 

“I thought of you, Matt. You on top of me, riding my dick like your life fuckin’ depended on it.” Ryan grunted out, and Matt couldn’t help but moan, at the imagery, at him being Ryan’s fantasy. 

“Now suck my cock, fuckin’ slut.” Ryan smirked. The flush on Matt’s cheeks grew hotter, and he poked his tongue out cheekily. Matt loved that word; at least, when Ryan used it.

“Yessir.” Matt said quickly, jokingly. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the head of Ryan’s dick, and Ryan swore softly, sinking further into the couch and jutting his hips forward. 

Matt took the head into his mouth, opening his mouth wide and gliding his tongue delicately over the flesh. Matt hadn’t always been a fan of sucking dick; it had always, for lack of a better term, left a bad taste in his mouth. It was different with Ryan. With Ryan, he knew he wasn’t going to be hurt, and he knew that he was really the one in control. He could stop whenever he wanted. 

Matt sunk his mouth down farther on Ryan’s cock, letting it settle in his mouth inch by agonizing inch. His mouth was already stretched wide, open and straining to fit Ryan’s girth. 

“Feels so fuckin’ good, Matthew, keep going. I know you can take it all.” Ryan mumbled. He threaded his fingers through Matt’s hair, tugging it lightly, causing it to stick out in all different directions. Matt wasn’t particularly fussy about it, he was more interested in focusing on the dick between his lips.

The hardwood under his knees was beginning to irritate him, so he pulled off of Ryan’s cock, a trail of spit connecting his lips with Ryan’s dick. 

“Ryan, can you…” Matt panted, waving towards the sofa. Ryan hummed and shifted himself, swinging his legs up onto the couch and laying back against an arm rest. He looked at Matt expectantly, cocking his head to the side. Matt blushed, and crawled up onto the leather couch, settling in between Ryan’s legs again. He felt much better here, safe and happy between Ryan’s legs. 

“How do you feel, Ryan?” Matt asked, resting his head on Ryan’s thigh, grabbing his cock in one hand and stroking him, twisting his wrist and grinning happily when Ryan shifted his hips under Matt’s touch. “Is this close to what you had in mind when you woke up?”

“I told you what I had in mind,” Ryan grunted. He grabbed Matt’s hair, combing through his hair again and lifting Matt’s head up from where it was resting on his thigh. “Are you gonna do what good sluts do now, Matt?” Matt nodded, smiling wide. 

Matt leaned forward and took the head of Ryan’s cock into his mouth again, staring up at Ryan as he hollowed out his cheeks and peered over the top of his glasses. Ryan looked disheveled, his head was thrown back and pieces of his hair had fallen out of his low bun, framing his face. Matt twisted his wrist around the part of Ryan’s dick that wasn’t in his mouth, before sliding off entirely and licking a long, wet stripe on the underside. He let Ryan’s cock rest against his chin, smiling stupidly up at Ryan. 

“You’re such a whore,” Ryan laughed, fondly. Matt giggled, sticking his tongue out to swirl around the head. “Why are you being such a damn tease this morning?” Ryan groaned, bucking his hips up off the couch. Matt attempted to shrug. 

“I’m not teasing you, I’m just going slow.” 

“Out of character.” Ryan said with a groan, and he wasn’t wrong. Matt liked going fast and getting wild. He liked when Ryan pulled his hair and held him down, because he always kissed him better and patched him up. 

“What? D’you want me to go faster?” Matt asked, feeling bratty. He shot a smirk up at Ryan, who raised his eyebrows. 

“I can make you go fuckin’ faster, baby.” Ryan mumbled, he moved fast, knocking Matt’s wrist from his cock and using the hand in Matt’s hair to guide Matt down onto his dick. Matt was startled, and any noise he tried to make was muffled by Ryan’s thick cock now filling his mouth. 

“That’s better,” Ryan said with a groan. “And look how good you look down there, huh?” Ryan crooned. He cradled Matt’s cheek in one hand, his thumb sneaking under Matt’s glasses to rub underneath his eye carefully. “God, Matt, I’m gonna fuck your throat, baby.” Ryan said, and Matt rolled his eyes back, feeling hot all over. He nodded his head slightly, staring up at Ryan through fluttering lashes. 

Matt braced himself as Ryan thrust his hips up, fucking his cock inside of Matt’s wet, open mouth. Matt closed his eyes and tried his hardest to breath through his nose, letting his throat open up and make room for Ryan’s cock. 

Ryan’s thrusts were hard but never painful. Matt wasn’t worried that Ryan would hurt him or take anything too far. The push of Ryan’s cock into his mouth was perfect, it had taken literal years of training down his gag reflex, but the result was well worth it for both him and Ryan’s sake. Matt liked when Ryan fucked his mouth, and Ryan loved fucking it. 

Tears began prickling in the corner of Matt’s eyes, running gently down his cheeks. His glasses were starting to fall off his face, askew from the force behind Ryan’s thrusts. 

“God, fuck, Matthew,” Ryan held Matt’s head down on his cock for a moment, keeping him in place. “Your mouth is so fuckin’ good, baby.” Matt tapped Ryan’s thigh gently, as he started to really gag on the dick in his mouth, and Ryan pulled him off. Ryan’s cock slid out of his mouth with an almost comical _pop!_ and Matt fell forward, nuzzling his head against Ryan’s stomach. 

“I know it’s fuckin’ good,” Matt bragged. He grabbed Ryan’s wet dick with a free hand and stroked it slowly, rubbing the head with his thumb. “Got you fucked up from how good it is.” Matt grinned up at Ryan. The tears had dried, but his lips were red and raw. He knew exactly how debauched he looked, and how it would make Ryan respond.

“Humble,” Ryan hissed out. He grabbed Matt’s hand that was stroking his dick and pulled it away, staring down at Matt with fire in his eyes. “Get up here. Sit on my lap.” Ryan ordered, in a voice that Matt could only ever obey. He always obeyed. 

Matt scrambled, kicking off the shoes he was still wearing, and shucking off his skinny jeans as well before plopping himself down in Ryan’s lap. He hooked his arms around his neck and cocked his head to the side, grinning cheekily. 

“Hey,” Matt said, squirming around in Ryan’s lap, getting his dick to line up perfectly against his ass. “If my voice is all fucked up now Ryan, I swear to god —” Matt was interrupted by Ryan pulling his head down and kissing him soundly on the lips. Matt suddenly realized that it was the first time they kissed since he’d gotten in, and the realization he’d gone so long without it made him moan desperately. He deepened the kiss, licking into Ryan’s mouth sloppily and grinding himself down on his lap. 

“If your voice is all fucked up, just say you have a cold,” Ryan mumbled between breaths, going right back to Matt’s mouth, kissing him fiercely and soundly. “Or just be honest, I’m sure our audience won’t be surprised.” Ryan said, breathless. Matt moaned as Ryan tugged at his lower lip, biting down lightly. 

The empty room felt hot and full of life, and Matt rejoiced in it, in himself and Ryan. In the way that his tongue felt gliding over Matt’s skin. In the way that Ryan’s hands drafted down his back, slowly and carefully gliding over his skin. In the way Ryan always made him feel whole. 

“Fuck, Ryan, you gotta fuck me.” Matt whined as Ryan’s fingers slipped into the band of his underwear, grabbing a handful of his ass. 

“I gotta, huh?” Ryan asked with a laugh. “Who’s going fast now?” 

“Shut up, dude. You’re wearing way too many clothes right now,” Matt complained, grabbing at Ryan’s shirt and clumsily pulling it over his head. “You’re so fuckin’ sexy, man, don’t hide it from me.” Matt continued, grinning. 

“You’re one to talk, Matt.” Ryan chuckled. 

“What, that I’m fuckin’ sexy too?” Matt asked, raising his eyebrows and preening. 

“No. You have too many clothes on.” Ryan said, attempting to tug Matt’s underwear down his legs, hindered by the position he was sitting in. Matt laughed, and managed to, rather inelegantly, peel them off and drop them on the floor. He settled once more on Ryan’s lap, his mouth was dry and he felt impatient, grabbing onto Ryan’s shoulders and rocking his hips down. 

“C’mon, Ryan, what’re you waiting for?” Matt giggled. “I thought you were horny as fuck?” 

“You’re being such a brat today, good god Matthew.” Ryan slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a bottle of lube. 

“Oh my god, you’re all prepared, that’s so cute.” Matt sneered. 

“Would you rather I fuck you dry, Matthew? Because we can make that happen.” Ryan said plainly, popping open the cap and pouring lube onto his fingers. 

“Wanna tear my ass open with your cock?” Matt said gleefully, arching his back as Ryan’s fingers found his hole and prodded at him. Matt groaned as Ryan’s index finger circled his rim, pushing his ass back as if that could push his fingers inside. 

“No, Matt, I’m not gonna ‘tear your ass open’, what are you talking about?” Ryan berated him, while he simultaneously pushed a finger inside. Matt moaned deeply at the intrusion, throwing his head back. It didn’t matter how many times him and Ryan did this, how often Ryan fingered him or ate him out or fucked him, Matt couldn’t believe it was real half the time, that someone could be so firm, yet so gentle. 

“I just wanna fuck you on my fingers, and then I want you to fuckin’ bounce your pretty ass on my cock, is that too much to ask?” Ryan shifted inside of him, and pushed another finger past his rim. “And I wanna hear those cute little noises you make. I like ‘em so much, babe.” Ryan cooed, his voice now hushed as he twisted and fucked his fingers up inside of him. Matt found himself thrusting back on Ryan’s fingers, eager and panting for more. Huffs of air escaped his lips, threatening to turn into louder, more pathetic sounds. Matt usually didn’t indulge Ryan with those until he was getting properly fucked. 

“Gotta, gotta wait for those, oh fuuuuck —” Matt said, biting his lip and crying out as Ryan’s fingers found his prostate, rubbing against it lightly and effectively turning Matt’s brain into jelly. 

“There we go, that’s right,” Ryan smirked, pulling a whimper out of Matt as he guided his fingers over the bundle of nerves inside of him. Matt bowed his head, resting it on Ryan’s shoulder. 

“Ryan, c’mon, please,” Matt mumbled, arching his back. “Fuck me, c’mon.” 

“Love when you beg for me, baby, sound like such a good slut…” Ryan trailed off, pulling his fingers out of Matt’s hole and grabbing the bottle of lube sitting on the couch. Matt waited eagerly, clutching Ryan’s shoulders and sitting up on his knees while Ryan poured lube over his cock. 

“Only for you,” Matt whispered. His breath hitched when Ryan placed the head of his cock against Matt’s tight hole. “I’m only a slut for you.” 

“I know,” Ryan said, dragging the head against the rim, teasing. “That’s how it’ll always be, baby. You and me.” Ryan mumbled. 

“Yeah…” Matt said dreamily, and he smiled against Ryan’s shoulder, puckering his lips and giving him a soft kiss. “You and me.” 

“Take a seat, babe.” Ryan said, holding the bottom of his cock firmly. Matt didn’t need to be asked twice. He began to lower himself slowly down on Ryan’s cock, groaning as every hard inch filled him up so perfectly. He smiled, a dopey grin that lit up his face. The empty room around him faded into nothing, the two of them were the center of the universe, and it was all Matt could think about. He lifted his head off of Ryan’s shoulder and leaned in to kiss him again as he continued to sink down onto his cock. 

“Ryan…” Matt groaned against his lips. Matt rolled his hips as he sat down, squeezing himself around Ryan just to hear him groan. 

“Do that again baby, fuck,” Ryan grunted. Matt was more than happy to comply, tightening himself around Ryan and rejoicing in the noises it pulled from him. “Such a good boy, Matt. “

Matt felt a rush of warmth flood his body at the pet name, and he kissed Ryan again. The praise Ryan bestowed on him always got to him, always made his head go foggy and his heart beat faster. 

“Say it again, Ryan…” Matt whimpered, rolling his hips and kissing Ryan sloppily on the mouth. 

“Say what? That you’re a good boy? You know you are, Matthew.” Ryan’s voice was so firm, so sure of itself. He truly believed his statement — he meant it. Matt swung his arms around his neck and held him tight. “You know what else good little boys do?” Ryan asked in a hushed whisper. He leaned in, his breath ghosting over Matt’s ear.

“Good little boys fuck themselves on their daddy's cock. And you’re a good little boy, aren’t you Matthew?” Matt’s eyes rolled back, and he quickly raised his hips, letting Ryan’s cock slide out of him before he sat himself back down, fucking himself thoroughly. 

“That’s right, good boy.” Ryan’s hands held firmly at Matt’s hips, his fingers holding him tight enough to leave red marks; they wouldn’t bruise but they _would_ be tender. A constant reminder that Matt belonged to Ryan. 

Matt felt dizzy, Ryan’s praise and encouragement filled him up with warmth and pride, he wanted to be good for him, be his good boy, his perfect boy… 

“D- da —” Matt started, as he continued to lift himself off and lower himself back down on Ryan’s dick. He hid his face in Ryan’s neck, his glasses pressing up awkwardly. Ryan held Matt’s hips, steadying him, and fisted a hand into his hair, tugging his head out from its hiding place. Ryan grabbed Matt’s glasses, pulling them off his face and tossing them to the side haphazardly. 

“What’s that?” Ryan asked, yanking Matt’s head back. “What’re you trying to say, baby?” Ryan cooed, his voice dripping like syrup. It was sweet and thick and it made Matt blush all over. 

“Daddy…” Matt whispered, exhaling the word like it was a sweet release of tension. All the bones in his body turned to jelly, and Matt felt an extreme weight lifted off his shoulders. Everything was on Ryan now. Ryan was there to take care of him. 

“Daddy what? What are you asking me for?” Ryan asked firmly. He thrust his hips up, jostling Matt while he waited for his reply, grinning smugly when Matt let out a surprised noise. 

“N-not asking for anything,” Matt stuttered, squeezing around Ryan again. “Just love the way you feel inside of me…” Matt trailed off, rocking his hips against Ryan, slowly. 

“You feel amazing around me, Matt. C’mon, keep it up.” Ryan let go of Matt’s hair and tapped him on the hip, encouraging Matt to keep going. 

Matt, encouraged, lifted himself back up off of Ryan’s cock only to fuck himself back down. Matt set a fast past, as fast as he could go. His thighs burned from the workout, and Matt moved his hands behind him, resting back on his weight to get a different angle. 

“Ah fuck, baby,” Ryan said when Matt had shifted himself. “Look at you, such a slut for my cock, huh?” Ryan grunted, clutching Matt’s hips firmly. 

The new angle was fucking perfect, Ryan’s cock brushing up against his prostate on every thrust. His body was getting tired though, and he whined nasally and panted. 

“Ryan, daddy, I need… You gotta…” Matt tried to get his words out, stumbling over them. 

“What, baby? What do I gotta do?” Ryan asked, not moving at all. Matt was one hundred percent positive Ryan knew what he wanted, and was fishing for Matt to ask him for it himself. 

“Fuck me, please, Ryan, I can’t — I can’t —” Matt whined, his legs about ready to collapse. 

The shift was instantaneous once Matt started begging. Ryan used Matt’s hips as leverage to pull out before knocking Matt backwards and climbing over him. Matt tried to make himself comfortable on his back, but soon Ryan was on top of him, grabbing Matt’s long legs and pulling them around his middle. Matt couldn’t hear anything but their heavy breathing, focusing hard on pulling in ragged breaths and getting enough air as Ryan lined his cock up to Matt’s hole and sank inside. 

Matt moaned, his voice high-pitched and nasal, his head flung back against the sofa. He stared up at Ryan, looking deep into his dark brown eyes. He was pleading, desperate. 

“Fuck me.” Matt said simply. It was a request Ryan couldn’t deny, and Matt knew that, knew that Ryan would always give him what he wanted when he asked for it. A soft smile graced Ryan’s face, and he leaned down to kiss Matt on the nose before he pulled out of Matt quickly, and sank back inside. 

Ryan fucked him like the building was about to collapse, like he was desperate to finish the job before everything fell around them. Ryan’s thrusts were fast, and sharp. He fucked up inside of Matt wonderfully, nailing his prostate and making Matt cry out. He moaned, and squirmed and panted, squeezing himself around Ryan’s dick. He tried his best to move his hips as well, tried to meet Ryan somewhere in the middle, but he couldn’t keep up. 

“Jesus christ, Ryan.” Matt moaned, letting his mouth fall open. The force of Ryan’s thrusts were making his toes curl in pleasure, and he suddenly noticed how painfully hard his own dick was. 

“Daddy, Ryan, I gotta…” Matt trailed off, reaching down to grab his own cock, taking it into his hand and thumbing over the head. 

“Yeah, jerk yourself off, good boy,” Ryan groaned, his eyes fixed on Matt stroking his dick. “You look so good, Matt. I love you so. Fucking. Much.” Ryan punctuated his words with a thrust of his hips, fucking into Matt hard. 

“You just love my ass.” Matt joked, grinning up at Ryan. 

“You know that’s bullshit,” Ryan muttered, leaning down to pull Matt into a hard kiss. “Love every fuckin’ thing about you. I love your laugh.” Ryan kissed the corner of Matt’s mouth as he continued. 

“I love your smartass mouth, you're such a brat, Matthew, I fuckin’ love you for it. Always challenging me.” Ryan smirked at him, he changed the pace of his thrusts, moving slowly inside of Matt now, pulling out so slow, almost unsatisfyingly so until just the tip was resting inside of him. 

“Fuck, Ryan, keep going…” Matt panted, speeding up the strokes on his dick.

“I love your mind. You’re so fucking smart, baby. I mean that shit.” Ryan said, sincerely. He pushed back inside of Matt, delighting when Matt threw his head back. 

“Ryan, fuck me, I’m gonna —” Matt’s hand was moving furiously over his dick, stroking himself hard and fast. 

“Cum for me, Matt. Do it, I wanna see you do it, baby.” Ryan groaned, nudging his cock at just the right spot, hitting Matt’s prostate. Matt cried out, and spilled over his hand. Some of it ended up on his stomach. 

“Fuck yeah,” Ryan moaned, and he grabbed Matt by the back of his knees, pushing them forward til they pressed against Matt’s chest. “I’m close, baby, almost there…” Ryan trailed off.

Matt tried to steady his breathing, but it was difficult with Ryan now back to fucking deep inside of him, chasing his own release. 

“Want you inside me,” Matt mumbled, out of breath. “Cum inside me, Daddy…” 

Those words, in that order, completely did it for Ryan. He thrust deep inside Matt, and Matt could feel his release, and could tell from the complete blissed out expression on Ryan’s face. His eyes were closed, his mouth open. He looked strangely peaceful, and that thought made Matt laugh. 

“What’re you laughing at?” Ryan asked, opening his eyes and staring at Matt. 

“It’s just fuckin’ funny to me, how relaxed and like, at ease you are when you cum in me.” Matt said, chuckling. 

“It’s my favorite place in the world, Matthew. What do you expect?” 

“Not as good as your mom though, ya know what I’m sayin?” Matt said with a smirk, only to cry out when Ryan smacked him on the shoulder before pulling out of him. 

“What? Can’t take a ‘your mom’ joke?!” Matt asked, grinning as he sat up on the sofa. 

“Not after we just fucked, dude!” Ryan said with an exaggerated eye roll. He pulled his gym shorts back up, and lay down on the couch. “Come fuckin’ cuddle me, dude.” Ryan attempted to grab Matt’s wrist and pull him down, but Matt jerked it away, standing up to pull on his underwear that was still laying on the floor, and the glasses that Ryan had carelessly dropped. 

“I would’ve made you buy me new ones, you know.” Matt said, slipping them back on before climbing back on the couch and laying down across Ryan, resting his head over his heart. 

“I would’ve, too. I’d do anything for you Matt, you know that.” 

The pair of them relaxed in a comfortable silence, letting their heart rates go back to normal, letting the real world slip back into their minds. The fog had lifted, and they weren’t alone in the universe anymore, much to Matt’s intense annoyance. 

“We got work to do, huh?” Matt asked quietly, nuzzling against Ryan’s chest again. 

“Yeah, unfortunately.” Ryan replied, hooking an arm over Matt, holding him tightly against his side. 

As much as Matt knew they had work to do, had content to create and e-mails to send, he could forget it all when he was laying in Ryan’s arms. In Ryan’s arms he was safe, he was loved, and he was himself.   
=

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this fic, and if you did, maybe leave a comment? That would be cool of u.
> 
> If you've been reading as a guest, I have other works that are archive locked so if you want access to those, u know what to do. You can also [follow me on twitter!](http://www.twitter.com/gunshoess)
> 
> Shout out again to my girlfriend because this whole fic wouldn't have been written without her huge brain <3


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